Things Fall Apart
by KB103
Summary: Super A/U, In Chicago, the Torres and Robbins families rule the financial realms. In a clash of morality, their distaste for one another is broadcast all over the city. When Callie and Arizona meet, however, the old rules cease to apply.
1. Prologue

Author: KB103  
Pairing: Callie/Arizona  
Rating: T (will probably change)  
Summary: Super A/U, In Chicago, the Torres and Robbins families rule the financial realms. In a clash of morality, their distaste for one another is broadcast all over the city. When Callie and Arizona meet, however, the old rules cease to apply. Will their bond reconcile their warring families or tear them apart forever?  
Disclaimer: I do not own Grey's, that distinction is reserved for Shonda. No copyright infringement is intended by this story, just lots of smiles and giggles.

A/N: Yes, I know I need to update GP, but I couldn't sit on this anymore. This fic has been in the works for a long time, and I'm excited to share it with you all. Thank you to Bree, who initially gave me the boost I needed to get going with it. A special thanks to Skones, who really helped me plan this and has put up with my constant babbling about this. You're awesome, Smarty! :) So here it is...I don't think I've ever been more proud of a fic, or more excited, so I hope you all love it.

Happy Reading,

~KB~

* * *

Things Fall Apart

Prologue:

_Secrets left untold_  
_We spiral out of control_  
_Until tragedy strikes us all_  
_Sucking out our breath as we fall_

A blood red sky stretched over the city of Chicago. The thunder rumbled in the background as a light rain drenched the members of two families. A redhead clung to herself as she fell onto the soaking ground, sobbing. A blonde huddled under an umbrella, completely alone. Her father's voice rang in her ears from a distance as he called after her. Ambulance lights reflected off the park art work, the red and blue dancing eerily in the blonde's eyes. The EMTs prepared to load the body into the ambulance. She nearly crumpled as they pulled the zipper shut over the brunette's frozen face. Another blonde rushed past the crowd to her friend, catching her just as her legs began to give out. `

"Arizona! Arizona!" she shouted.

Her blues eyes blinking, Arizona muttered one strained word. "Calliope."

Then everything went black.

* * *

(Present Day)

Arizona stretched in the morning sunlight, her hips rising from the mattress of her king size bed. She sat up and swung her feet over the edge of her bed. Yawning, she stood on the hardwood floor, continuing to stretch. Extending her arms above her head, the blonde arched her back and stood on her tip toes. She had slept well last night, which was rare for her .Padding across the floor of her the large room, Arizona rid her body of clothes before wrapping herself in a towel. After entering her bathroom, she turned on the shower and dropped her towel.

As she washed her hair, Arizona reveled in her morning time to herself. Her day would probably consist of roaming the downtown area of Chicago with Teddy. Her brother, Timothy, was heading out to the family's latest construction venture near Millennium Park. They were renovating the bottom floor and eight additional floors to add to their number of banking locations in the city. The blonde tried to steer clear of the family business, but there were certain rules she still had to follow as the daughter of The Colonel.

Arizona toweled off in her room contemplating what she should wear. She flung open her closet, revealing a long walk way past two walls populated with clothing. She grabbed a pair of jeans and a tight fitting blue top. Rule number one: always have something blue, whether it's earrings, a scarf, or a sweater. Rule number two: do not wear black. Black was the color of La Familia Torres, and the Robbins clan avoided anything regarding LFT.

Black. It was an ugly and grotesque color, and so was that family. They stole for their own personal gain, robbing innocent people of their piece of mind. They were violent, crude, and against everything for which the Robbins family stood. Arizona's father was honorable, and good. He saw the corruption in the world and fought it the only way he knew how. Her father, The Colonel, was a retired officer who had served in the marines. His military life had hardened him, giving the man a new found perspective on life and his role in society. He had many successes while in the military. If those successes had taught Daniel Robbins one thing, it was that action had impact. So while the government watched as big business robbed the people, Daniel did something about it. He stole their money.

For years, he had pulled major heists, acquiring a mass of wealth that he stored in one of the many banks his family owned in Chicago. The Colonel was well known for granting no interest loans, funding social projects, giving scholarships, and even a debt forgiving grant to those who especially needed it. The people of Chicago loved him because he did take such good care of them. There had been questions about how he had acquired his money, but Daniel Robbins was smart. He had never been definitively linked with any of the robberies in which he participated.

Arizona checked herself in the mirror, smoothing over her clothes before opening the door to the hallway of her apartment. She lived in a modest one bedroom condo near the museum campus. Living on the top floor of the eight story building, she had a great overlook of the south side of the city. She absolutely loved the location of her building. Aside from being a walk away from the museums, Arizona was also just a block over from Michigan Avenue, which in addition to good shopping, was also the location of her family's corporate office. If she had any complaint, it was that she lived so far from her job. She was a biology teacher at Northside Prep, the best public school in the city. Northside, however, happened to be on the opposite side of the city.

Checking her watch, she let out a sigh, she had to be at her father's office in just twenty minutes. Apparently he had something he wanted to discuss. She guessed he was having some sort of function at the penthouse soon, and he wanted her to be there. Ever since she graduated from college, Arizona had been distancing herself from her father and his business. She agreed with him on many of his points, but disagreed with how he battled the system at times.

Don't be mistaken, Arizona Robbins loved her family, and her father, and above all else, was loyal to them, but she just didn't feel the need to participate. Her brother, Timothy, on the other hand took a completely different approach. Just three years younger than Arizona, at twenty-four Timothy was her father's right hand man. He graduated from the University of Chicago at the age of 20, and earned his MBA from the University of Michigan last year. Upon his return to Chicago, he pretty much assumed the role of "crown prince" to the Robbins fortune and business.

While her father may have wanted Arizona to do the same, that sort of life just wasn't for her. She wasn't into "pulling jobs" as her father called it. She could forgive her father because he actually contributed more to the world through circumventing the system than by playing by the rules. She just wasn't her father.

Pulling on her Northface Denali jacket, Arizona opened the door to exit her condo. She took the elevator to the ground floor, opting not to go to the garage and get her car. It was just a short walk down Michigan, so there was really no need to get in her car. Timothy, though, definitely would have. He loved to drive around in the Audi TT her father gave him as a congratulatory gift for earning his MBA. She loved her brother, but it never ceased to amaze her how different they were.

The walk to her father's building was uneventful, and relatively short. She looked up at the Gothic architecture on the top of the building, the light color of the limestone bathing her eyes. Arizona took a deep breath, and gently pushed open the door to her father's headquarters, the white lobby welcoming her with open arms, enveloping her into a heavenly hug as she ascended the tower to her waiting father.

A groan erupted from Callie's lips as the early morning sunlight glossed her olive skin. She really didn't want to get out of bed this morning. She hated waking up early; she especially hated it when she had to go the docks to accept a shipment for her father. On most days, Callie loved her job, but on days like today, she really just didn't want to get out of bed.

Throwing off the covers, the Latina pulled herself out of bed. She arched her back as she stretched in front of her sprawling windows. Her feet shuffled across the floor as Callie made her way to the bathroom. She turned on the shower, stepping into the rising steam. The brunette loved hot showers. Not only did they wake her up in the mornings, but they also helped wipe her mind. As the warm spray touched her skin, she still cursed her father for making her get up this morning.

Her father, Carlos "Papa" Torres was a highly influential man in Chicago. He was an extremely successful banker, and also owned a few clubs around the Chicago area. Callie, as his oldest daughter was ushered into the family business, while her younger sister, Aria, was able to do what she pleased, which usually involved partying in South Beach. Though her life had sort of been planned for her, the Latina enjoyed working for her father. She was surrounded by family, some by blood and others by their close association with "La Familia" as her father referred to it.

Handling only the investments and shipments, Callie remained relatively unaware of the inner workings of her father's company. Her best friend, Mark Sloan, however in some ways was more entrenched than she was. She was a little fuzzy on the details of his job, but she knew that he managed at least one of the nightclubs and was some kind of "enforcer" for La Familia. Callie knew enough to know that she didn't want to know more.

Stepping from the shower, Callie wrapped a long, black towel around her body. She opened the closet adjacent to her bedroom. Stepping in, she grabbed a pair of dark wash jeans, and pulled them over her long legs. Normally, she never wore any kind of blue, no one from La Familia did, but jeans weren't really blue, at least they weren't the kind of blue everyone avoided. The Robbins family, a bunch of self-righteous meddlers, wore blue. Bright blue. Callie figured as long as she avoided colors that appeared on fish tank rocks, she'd be fine.

The brunette once asked her father about the Robbins family, but the old man froze her out. She got the feeling that Mark, of all people, might know something more than she did, but they avoided talking about it. It was just one of those things that was understood: don't wear blue, and don't talk to happy looking blondes. For as long as Callie could remember, those were the rules.

As she grew older, however, she started to pick up hints that this "rivalry", as her father put it, wasn't so benign. When she was ten, her mother died in a car accident, and afterwards, her father enrolled her in martial arts classes. Once she was in high school, he sent Callie off to boarding school at Choate Rosemary Hall, an upstanding prep school on the east coast. During the summers, she would come home and continue her martial arts training. The summer before her first year of college, Carlos forced her to learn how to fire a weapon. He wanted her to go so far as to carry one, but Callie absolutely refused. She was not a violent person, despite knowing how to protect herself. Of course, if someone in her family was in danger, she would extend that protection to them as well, in any medium she saw fit at the time, but she never used her martial arts abilities as a playground asset.

In hindsight, some of her father's behavior seemed odd, but she knew that he was only doing his best to protect her. From what, that she didn't know. Sometimes it felt like she was under constant supervision, but most of the time she was just accompanied by Mark, so that was fine. Mark had been her best friend literally since Callie was born. His parents were her father's closest friends, so naturally their children also grew up closely. When Mark was still young, however, his parents died. Callie was never sure how; she was too young to remember, but after that, he basically was adopted by Carlos. Even though Callie attended high school and college away from Chicago, her relationship with Mark always remained the same. He was her brother, and her dearest friend. That was the one truth she could rely on in this world.

Once she put on her leather jacket, shrugging it past her shoulders, Callie smoothed her dark waves, and headed to the docks. She checked her phone just as she left her apartment. Mark had just texted her, telling her that he would meet her at the docks and they were going to the beach after. Cursing, Callie dashed back inside her apartment, grabbing her beach gear. A day in Lake Michigan was exactly what she needed. Her morning was looking up.


	2. You Are My Sweetest Downfall

A/N: So here is chapter two. Notice that it is significantly longer than the intro...I think the remaining chapters will also be about this length. I just want to thank everyone for their kind reviews. I was truly overwhelmed by the response to this fic, and it only motivated me to give you all something that I thought would meet your expectations. Anyway, of course I have to say thank you to my ibf and acting beta: Skones. You're the best. Also, I wanted to thank my lovely fiance, because she puts up with me...even when I'm an uber bitch. I love you, Alleon. Enough of my rambling...as always...

Happy Reading,

~KB~

* * *

**Chapter 2: You Are My Sweetest Downfall**

Arizona gazed at her father as she entered. Daniel smiled at her, upon seeing her come into the room. She returned the gesture, taking a seat in one of the lounge chairs in front of his desk. "What did you want to talk about, Sir?" Arizona asked, hoping this would be a relatively quick discussion as she had mounds of grading to do this weekend.

Daniel's blue eyes twinkled in the light shining through the glass windows of the office. His blonde hair was decorated by light grey flecks, giving his hair a white sheen in sunlight. He shone brilliantly behind his desk. "Well, Arizona," The Colonel said, leaning forward, "Tonight we have a benefit at the Penthouse. I was wondering if you were planning to attend."  
Arizona swallowed hard. She hadn't really planned on going to the benefit tonight. Her father threw them all the time, and tonight, she just felt like curling up with a glass of wine. "No Sir, I wasn't."

Daniel sighed audibly, showing his disappointment in his daughter's response. "You've been noticeably absent from family affairs, Arizona. I would really appreciate it if you would come tonight. Chicago needs to see their favorite family united."

Across the room, Arizona set her jaw, her temples clenching as she did so. She hated it when her father did this to her, absolutely detested it. She loved the man with all her heart, but sometimes she wished she could be free of his political world. Timothy's blossoming involvement only solidified that thought. "Fine," she grumbled, "I'll be there at 8:30, but I'm only staying for a couple of hours," the blonde stopped, and smirked. "I'm bringing Teddy."

"This is a family event, Arizona," Daniel replied, his tone laced with frustration.

Arizona narrowed her eyes. "I'm either coming with Teddy, or I won't be there."

"Fine," Daniel grumbled, deciding not to call his daughter's bluff. "Teddy can come."

"I'll see you at 8:30 then," she responded, gathering her things. "Have a good day, Dad."

Daniel watched his daughter walk out of his office. He ran a hand through his close-cropped greying hair. Sometimes he didn't understand Arizona, but then again, he never fully understood Kate either. He sighed, remembering his late wife. She was undoubtedly the love of his life, and he never fully recovered from her death.

Timothy was his son, the spitting image of the elder Robbins, while Arizona definitely belonged to her mother. She had inherited Kate's dimples and trademark smile, her wit, and her kindness. He liked to think he had given Arizona her unshakable toughness, but he knew that came from Kate as well. Arizona, unfortunately, was so young when she died, that she could barely remember her. That good for nothing man stole the love of his life and forever separated his children from their mother.

He hated Carlos Torres.

"Hey Dad," a voice called from the doorway.

Daniel snapped his head up, his eyes locking with his son's. "Timothy," he said warmly, "come in."

The youngest Robbins entered his father's office. Unlike his father and sister, he had piercing green eyes, his mother's eyes. Other than that, he was Colonel Junior. They shared the same build, the same blonde hair, the same tight lipped smirk, and the same dreary outlook. Through college, some of Timothy's friends would even call him CJ, because of the resemblance he shared with his father.

The young man sat down in the chair previously occupied by his sister. He glanced at his father, who flicked on a lamp. A lump of grey clouds rolled over the sky in the late morning, dimming the previously well-lit office. "What's up?"

"I need you to go down to the docks this morning. Torres is getting in a shipment, and at bare minimum, I want to know what it is," Daniel said curtly.

"Any ideas of what it could be?" Timothy asked as he relaxed into the chair.

The elder man shrugged, a frown spreading across his lips. "I don't really know, but it could be some more ecstasy from Amsterdam to run out in his clubs, but it also could be some illegally imported goods from Europe."

Timothy nodded in understanding. "Ok, so who is going to be there?"

"Torres always has his eldest daughter accept the shipments. Her name is Callie, I don't know if you remember her."

"5'9", long black hair, brown eyes, and her given name is Calliope," Timothy rattled off.

Daniel nodded, clearly impressed with his son's memory. "Ok then. Call me when you know what's in the shipment. I'll see you later tonight."

Without a word, Timothy got up from his chair, and nodded to his father. He exited the office, and turned to go down the hall. Tapping his foot impatiently, he waited for the elevator. He didn't really have time to waste. From what he knew about the operations of Carlos Torres, he typically had various shipments come in before noon, usually around ten o'clock. Checking his watch, Timothy let out a curse. It was already 9:15; leaving him less than ample time to accomplish the task he was given.

As the elevator finally arrived, Timothy exhaled loudly. He entered the steel container, pressing the number for the ground floor. Crossing the lobby quickly, he shoved his hands into the pockets of his grey slacks. He stepped out into the Chicago summer air, thankful he had decided not to dress too formally today. Looking down at his sweater, Timothy gently pulled a piece of lint from the light blue fabric before climbing into his waiting Audi. His father must have called down to the garage for him, not that he was complaining; it definitely saved him some time.

Speeding down the streets of Chicago, Timothy drove towards the lake and the area known as the docks. The older portion of the shipping harbor was where Torres received his shipments. Unbeknownst to most, however, was the fact that Timothy and Daniel used it as well to transport their own shipments. It worked perfectly because no one would ever expect The Colonel, the people's very own Robin Hood, to be anywhere near the docks.

Smirking at the thought, Timothy parked behind one of the old abandoned warehouses. He exited his car, shutting the door quietly, as he didn't want to be heard upon his approach. He snuck towards the pier where he saw a woman standing. There was a large ship docked in the harbor. Men were wheeling crates down the pier. Timothy reached into the deep pockets of his slacks, pulling out the crowbar he brought with him.

He waited patiently until the Latina moved down the pier to sign for the crates. Once she was a good distance away, Timothy scampered across the asphalt towards the accepted shipment. Just as he was about to pop open the crates he heard a voice behind him.

"Freeze, Robbins."

Timothy turned around slowly, dropping the crowbar on the ground, and putting his hands behind his back. The metal rod hit the surface with a loud clank. His green eyes bore into those of Mark Sloan, the venomous lapdog of Carlos Torres himself. His eyes were level with the barrel of Sloan's CZ-75B pistol. "Sloan," Timothy hissed, his fingers toying with his back holster.

"What are you doing here? I figured angels such as yourself would steer clear of places rank with trouble. You should know better," Mark said, his voice adopting a playfully sinister tone.

Timothy smirked. "You know us angels, just checking up on what Lucifer is up to."

Mark's jaw clenched. He hated this cocky little bastard. He strutted around the city like he owned the place and answered to no one. The entire Robbins family acted as if they were beyond reproach in Mark's opinion. "You'd do well to watch your tongue, Robbins."

"What are you going to do about it Sloan? We both know you would never shoot me here."

"Don't tempt me," Mark spat through gritted teeth.

"Mark!" Callie screamed as she rushed down the pier.

Instinctively, Mark turned towards the voice. His distraction gave Timothy just one quick moment, but it was just enough. The blonde removed his hands from behind his back, brandishing his 9mm Glock 19. Before Mark knew what hit him, Timothy had his arm around his neck, and a gun pointed at his head. Timothy hit his hostage's wrist, flicking the gun from his hand. The weapon was sent careening to the ground, and upon impact fired into the wall of the warehouse, causing  
Callie to scream. "What's in the crates?" Timothy screamed at the shocked Latina. "Tell me what's in them, you have ten seconds."

"I don't know," Callie fired back, the emotion of seeing her best friend's life in danger bubbling to the surface as her eyes welled.

"Five seconds!"

"I don't know!" The brunette repeated.

"4!"

"She doesn't know!" Mark screamed, "she is never told what's in them."

"2!"

Callie didn't know what to do. She had no idea what was in those crates, and she knew that lying wasn't an option. Why the hell did Timothy want to know what was in them to begin with? She was scared and confused. She jumped as the ship horn sounded from behind her. Turning around briefly, she could see the ship roar to life. Returning her eyes to Mark, she saw that he had squirmed out of Timothy's grasp. He now stood over a bleeding Timothy, holding his Glock, and threatening to pull the trigger.

Callie dashed down the pier towards Mark. She couldn't have blood on his hands, not today. This was not the way she wanted to spend her weekend. They were supposed to be lounging on the beach and discussing Callie's love life woes, not crying and fighting for their lives. She was just supposed to sign for some crates and be on her way, like she does nearly every Saturday. Why did this feud exist? Why couldn't the Robbins family live somewhere very far away from her?

"Mark, let him go!" She shouted as she reached the end of the pier. She picked up his gun that was laying at her feet. "Let's just go. He isn't worth it, really."

Mark snarled at the youngest Robbins as he tossed his gun towards the warehouse. He stepped over him towards Callie. "Fine, but we have to stop at the office before we go to the beach since we just had this _incident_."

The Latina frowned. "I'm not really in the mood for the beach at the moment. Rain check?"

"Yeah," Mark answered, looking over his shoulder to where they left Timothy. He was walking towards the warehouse. Satisfied he wasn't going to follow them and stir up more trouble, Mark led Callie back towards their cars. Upon passing Timothy's Audi, Mark smirked. He took out his gun, and proceeded to shoot out the windows.

"Shit Mark!" Callie exclaimed, jumping from the sudden intrusion of noise. "Was that really necessary?"

Mark shrugged, a smile appearing on his lips. "It was fun."

Callie rolled her eyes at her gun happy best friend. "Whatever. I'll see you tonight?" She asked as she climbed into her car.

"You know it," Mark replied with a smile, sliding into his black Lamborghini. He couldn't help but smile as the engine roared to life. He loved the feeling of this car. It was flashy, and sexy, just like him. Backing out of the gravel area where he had parked, he turned back towards downtown. The idle buildings of the various neighborhoods passed by as he neared the thrumming hub of the city.

Fifteen minutes later, Mark turned into the parking garage adjacent to the headquarters of La Familia. His car locked with the squeaky sound of a click. His hands buried deep in the pockets of his black zip-up hoodie, he entered the building. Mark didn't bother with the receptionists, he didn't need to. Instead he continued to his boss's office.

Entering the elevator, he pulled out the key needed to stop on his desired floor. He turned the key as he pressed the button, and waited for the remainder of his short elevator ride. The doors dinged open, revealing a black marble floor and a room covered in glass windows. The accents of the room were a charcoal grey color. Mark took a deep breath as he disembarked from the elevator. Carlos wasn't going to like this news at all.

Hearing the elevator open, Carlos Torres looked up from his desk. "Mark," he said enthusiastically, "to what do I owe this pleasure?"

"Unfortunately, it isn't a pleasure Papa T," Mark replied glumly as he took a seat in one of the plush leather chairs.

Carlos arched an eyebrow in both curiosity and concern. "Well what brings you here then mijo?"  
Mark let out an exasperated sigh. "Timothy Robbins showed up at the docks today."

"My God is Calliope ok?" Carlos asked, his immediate concern for his daughter showing.  
Mark nodded. "Yes, but she's a bit shaken up."

"Tell me everything," Carlos demanded.

Mark nodded and proceeded to recount the entire tale of what happened that morning. To say Carlos was livid would be a gross understatement. A slew of Spanish curses flew from his lips at lightning speed. Mark didn't know enough Spanish to pick up everything, but he'd been around Carlos long enough to recognize a few choice words, and they weren't exactly of the clean variety. Once he filled Carlos in, Mark stuck around a little while longer to chat. Carlos informed him of a party going on at the Robbins penthouse that night, and he wanted Mark to go. He suggested that he bring along Callie as well. Mark couldn't help but get a little excited; he loved parties.

After leaving the office, Mark ran a few errands downtown. He picked up a dress for Callie at this boutique she loved. He also grabbed a tux for himself, cursing that it had to be white. He always felt like some sort of a cupcake when he wore white. As he returned to his car, he pulled out his Droid, texting he and Callie's mutual friend Addison Montgomery and invited her to the party.

Addison worked as a lawyer for an independent firm downtown. Callie met her when she was away at Choate. Originally from New York City, she and Callie became fast friends. Eager to escape her crazed home life, Addison would often spend her summers in Chicago, which is how she met Mark. Maturing through their teenage years, he, Callie, and Addison basically grew up together. He and Addison sort of had a thing going, but neither of them really knew what was going on. She once told him she was in love him, but that was when they were practically kids.

Mark wasn't really into relationships. He loved women, boy did he love women, but he never allowed himself to be tied down to one in particular. He knew that his various trysts probably hurt Addison, but he couldn't help who he was. He, of course, had feelings for the beautiful redheaded woman, but Mark knew that in the end he would hurt her. He just wanted to spare her that pain.  
Pulling up to Callie's apartment building, the sun was beginning to set beyond the horizon. He called her phone, waiting for her to pick up.

"Hello?" Callie asked, answering her phone.

"Torres get down here, we're going to a party."

"Excuse me?"

"Just come down here, and don't worry about changing," Mark replied quickly before ending the call. He drummed his fingers against the steering wheel. The door clicking open alerted him to Callie's presence. She slid into the car next to him, eyeing him with a confused look on her face.

"What?" Mark asked.

"Where are you taking me again?"

Mark smirked. "There's a party at the Robbins' Penthouse tonight."

Callie shook her head. "No Mark, absolutely not. I'm not going up there, especially after what happened this morning. I want nothing to do with this whole thing."

"Oh come on Torres, " Mark whined. "It'll be fun. Besides, Addison is coming."

"You're dragging Addison into this?" Callie nearly shouted. "Are you stupid? Seriously Mark!"

"Chill out, Cal. It's just a party, a benefit even. Nothing is going to go wrong. Here, take a look for yourself," He said as he handed her the invitation Carlos had given him.

Callie eyed the small piece of paper as Mark stopped the car. He put the car in park, got out, and walked to the trunk. "Are you sure this is a good idea?" Callie asked from the car.

Mark shrugged. "Why not? They started some crap down at the docks today anyway. Besides, Torres, it's a costume party. That means no one will be able to see us."

Callie just shook her head at her best friend. Sometimes he was more than a little bit dense. "We're in black you moron!" the Latina exclaimed, tugging at her worn leather jacket. "Also, it's a 'masked ball', not a costume party, so only our faces will be covered. I highly doubt the theme will send the Robbins' clan into an all-black charade anyway. The invite said blue tie, for heaven's sake."

Mark merely smirked at the brunette. "That's why I brought supplies, Torres." He reached behind his friend to the back seat, pulling up a dress bag. Handing it to Callie, he gave her a smug look. "I think you'll like it," He said, smoothing his own suit. "I'm going to go in, so you can figure out a way to change."

Callie cursed under her breath as she attempted to wiggle into the dress Mark brought for her. After a few minutes, she managed to successfully maneuver into the material. She slipped on the heels Mark left for her, opened the car door, and exited the vehicle. Pushing open the door to the Temple Building, where the Robbins made their home, Callie felt a rush of nerves course through her body. She never liked being in the presence of these people. In her mind, they shrouded themselves in white, making everyone and themselves believe they were saintly. They lived in the Temple Building for God's sake. How much more hubristic could a family be?

She walked towards Mark, who was waiting for her near the elevator. He slipped her the mask her brought for her. They stepped through the white elevator doors together. Mark smirked as he pressed the button for the Robbins penthouse. He awkwardly shifted his weight from one foot to the other as the elevator slowly ascended. Once they reached their intended floor, Mark and Callie strutted out of the elevator into the Robbins lavish penthouse. Women swayed to the music, clad in gowns of various shades of blue; their partners in white tuxes with differing shades of blue bow ties.

"Wow, they really go out of their way to avoid black," Callie commented, nudging Mark playfully. The gown Mark had brought with him was absolutely gorgeous. It was a deep navy blue, and clung to the Latina in the best way imaginable. The brunette was thankful for the color choice; she wasn't exactly a fan of light blue. "It's so bright in here. It's like some kind of lollipop."

Mark smirked. "This is why God invented indigo. I wouldn't be caught dead wearing Robbins Candy Land blue," he spat, struggling with his tie and fidgeting in his suit. "A white tux is bad enough."

Callie looped her arm through her friend's, checking with her other hand to make sure her mask settled neatly over her eyes and nose. Mark had chosen a Phantom-like mask for himself, and the brunette thought he pulled it off rather well. She turned over her shoulder as the elevator dinged once more. Addison Montgomery stepped through the doors, securing her own mask.

Her gown swished behind her as she approached her friends. "You know," she began, a hint of annoyance lacing her tone, "this whole blue thing really clashes with my hair."

Callie rolled her eyes as her friend toyed with her fiery red locks. "You would only care about your hair, Addie."

"Let's just enjoy the party," Mark interjected, cutting off the two women before they could get started with their playful bickering. "Keep your ears peeled for anything related to business. Papa T has been wondering when The Colonel is pulling his next job."

"I'm getting a drink," Callie said flatly, stepping away from Mark and Addison. Sometimes she hated the politics of her father's way of life. She hated this feud, but she went along with it because if she didn't, her safety was honestly in question. While not a particularly violent person herself, there was no denying the fact that the disagreement between her father and The Colonel could turn to violence. The encounter this morning demonstrated that fact perfectly for her. Walking into this party tonight was dangerous enough, but doing it while wearing black would have been truly catastrophic. But these were the circumstances she was used to, so she adapted and lived her life.

The world wasn't full of great people; life was nasty, brutish, and short, in Callie's mind. Her mother's death proved that to be the case. Callie didn't bother attempting to fool herself into thinking that human beings were inherently good. All of them were corrupted in some way. Nothing could stay perfectly white forever. The purest of colors was the most easily tainted in her opinion. That was why she loved black. It was completely devoid of expectations, giving her a different degree of freedom. She could spill a drink, or spaghetti and no one would really notice. One wrong move in white, and you were put on display for the whole world to see.

The Latina ordered a glass of wine from the bartender. She savored the sweet liquid as it flowed down her throat. Nothing pleased her quite like a taste of good wine. She turned to head back to her friends. As she moved, however, she was bumped by another person, spilling the red wine onto her exposed chest, just above her heart.

"Shit," Callie cursed, reaching for a napkin so she could dab at the small mess.

"Oh my God, I'm so sorry," the woman who bumped into her said quickly.

Callie turned to face her, and was about to give her a piece of her mind, but her breath caught when her eyes met the blue ones settled behind the mask. The woman was about three inches shorter than Callie, with gorgeous blonde hair falling in gentle waves to her shoulders. There was no doubt that the Latina was completely taken aback by the sudden appearance of this beautiful woman. "Um, it's ok," Callie managed to stammer. "I'm Callie," she said, offering her hand to the blonde.

"Arizona," the blonde replied, grasping the Latina's hand with her own. At the contact of their skin, her world seemed to stop. Arizona thought Callie must have felt it too. She didn't know what it was exactly, but something about this woman intrigued Arizona. She was stunning, first of all, but she had this hint of pain buried deep within her chocolate brown eyes. It tugged at Arizona's heart strings, and she wanted nothing more than to take that pain away, if only for a few moments. "Would you care to dance with me Callie?"

The Latina smiled at Arizona as she walked towards the dance floor, her hand still entwined with the blonde's. She spun Arizona into her arms, guiding her across the hardwood. The blonde's white dress flowed behind her as they twirled together in time with the music. Their eyes remained locked, the music fading around them. They stood staring at one another, neither of them speaking, long after the music stopped.

Suddenly, Arizona was ripped away by Teddy Altman, her long time best friend, and reporter for the Chicago Sun Times. Callie could only watch as the blonde was whisked away. She looked over her shoulder one last time at Callie, who stood powerless, and was being tugged by Mark.

"What are you doing?" She spat at him.

"Don't you know who that was?" He asked incredulously.

"Yeah," Callie answered, "her name is Arizona."

"Her name is Arizona _Robbins_," Mark hissed. "She's The Colonel's daughter."

Callie's heart plummeted. "Oh," she said, trying not to let Mark in on her disappointment. She had been interested in discovering more about the blonde. She'd felt a connection with Arizona instantly, and it was unlike anything she'd ever felt before. She didn't believe in love at first sight; she still didn't, but there was no denying her attraction to Arizona. Callie mentally chided herself as her thoughts continued to wander back to the blonde. She needed some space. "I'm going to the bathroom," she said, pulling away from Mark.

*******  
Across the room, Arizona poked Teddy in the chest. "What is the matter with you? Couldn't you see I was having a good time?"

"I was saving you before your brother had a heart attack," Teddy responded, motioning over to  
Timothy who looked like he was about to rip someone's head off.

"What are you talking about, Teddy?" Arizona said, obviously frustrated.

"That's Callie Torres," Teddy whispered.

Arizona's face fell. "Crap," she muttered under her breath. She looked to Teddy, the disappointment evident in her ocean blue eyes. Teddy, while not affiliated with her family officially, had been Arizona's best friend since they were in high school, so she was well aware of the feud between the Robbins and Torres families. As much as Arizona wanted to believe the revelation of Callie's last name was enough to scare her off, it wasn't. There was something drawing her to the Latina; she wanted to know her.

Arizona turned away from Teddy, looking back out into the crowd. She saw Callie rushing to the bathroom. In an instant, she made the decision to follow her. Screw the rules. Screw her father. "I need to use the bathroom, " she said to Teddy, rushing after the Latina.

Teddy followed Arizona's eyes, seeing the flash of indigo disappear into the bathroom. "I hope you know what you're doing Arizona."

The blonde ignored the voice of her friend as she followed Callie. She pulled open the wooden door, finding Callie leaning over a sink, dabbing at her face with a wet paper towel. Her eyes were a little red, and Arizona hoped she hadn't been crying. Despite that, though, she still found the Latina to be absolutely gorgeous. "Hey," Arizona said softly, approaching the brunette.

Callie's breath hitched in her throat, and for just a moment she forgot how to breathe. She was struggling. Her body's obviously physical reaction to Arizona's presence was confused by her brain's incessant pleading for the blonde to just leave her the hell alone. Where they were going had bad idea all over it. "Oh hey," Callie said curtly, her eyes locking with Arizona's through the mirrored glass.

"Torres right? You're last name is Torres?" Arizona asked tentatively, already knowing the answer. Part of her, however, silently prayed that Teddy was wrong, that maybe this gorgeous woman in front of her wasn't caught up in this mess. Because that would make this so much easier, and right now Arizona wanted this to be easy.

Callie nodded, knowing her answer doomed them. Even though she felt the butterflies flutter in her stomach at the tiny smile Arizona was giving her, she was terrified. The blonde's brother threatened to kill her best friend not twelve hours ago. That's what was standing between them right now. The two feet separating them may as well have been an ocean as far as Callie was concerned. "Yes, my name is Callie Torres."

"Arizona Robbins," the blonde stated, deciding that Callie probably already knew that information, but giving it anyway. She was unsure where to go from this point. If she was smart, she'd run the other way. She would just walk out of the bathroom, and continue on with her daily life, forgetting this night ever happened. Looking at the smooth features of Callie's face, however, made that choice an impossibility. She captivated every one of Arizona's senses, and in spite of her better judgement, she found herself taking a step forward. "People talk. In our families, people talk, so I know all sorts of things about you."

"Terrific," Callie mumbled, unsure of exactly Arizona was getting at. She was still hesitant, but the longer her eyes remained trained on Arizona, the faster her resolve crumbled.

Arizona couldn't help but smile. "It is actually. We have all of these conversation starters because I know that you went to Choate instead of going to school in the City," She hesitated at the frown that crossed Callie's lips. All she wanted was to make this woman smile. She wasn't usually this forward, but she just couldn't help herself. She took a deep breath before continuing, "It's just that you're upset, because my last name is Robbins, and yours is Torres. But this is me telling you that I don't care. I want to get to know you."

The brunette looked up at the blonde, completely bewildered. "What does that even mean?"

Arizona tilted her head playfully before leaning in close to the brunette. The blonde wasn't exactly sure what she was doing, but her body seemed to move of its own accord. Her lips brushed Callie's in a sweet and tender kiss that took both women's breath away. After just a moment, Arizona slowly peeled her lips from the Latina's. She slipped a card into the brunette's palm before whispering, "I think you know."


	3. The Stars Came Falling on Our Heads

A/N: Ok here's the third installment. I just want to say that the ESPN Zone in Chicago is now closed, and i'm aware of that, but I loved that place, so in my world it still exists. Also...I own nothing Shakespeare has ever written...just sayin.

Also...thank you to all of those who are reading, and a special thank you to those who are reviewing. I really appreciate it. As always...

Happy Reading,

~KB~

* * *

Chapter 3: The Stars Came Falling on Our Heads

Callie laid in her bed, turning Arizona's card over between her fingers. She had been staring at it since the blonde slipped it into her hand two nights ago at the benefit. Once Callie realized what she had been given, she seriously considered throwing it away. She even stood over the trash can about to let the slim piece of paper slide from her fingertips. In the end, however, the Latina just couldn't bring herself to toss away Arizona's information.

Despite her better judgment, Callie knew she wanted to see the blonde again. In a way, the hard part was already over. They didn't have to hide from one another; the knowledge of their respective identities was open to the other. That should have relieved the brunette, but in truth, it only served to terrify her further. Terror: that was the feeling dominating her conscious at the moment. Callie was terrified of her father finding out what happened at the benefit, terrified of Mark's reaction if he found out she had Arizona's number, terrified of what could go wrong, but above all else, the knowledge that the blonde's luscious lips pressed against hers for only a moment and completely rocked her world was the most terrifying.

Callie entered that bathroom in a state of perplexity, confusion, sadness and terror. When Arizona kissed her softly, her heart fluttered with hope, something that had evaporated from her mind on the docks that morning. Seeing her best friend brandish a pistol did not surprise the Latina; she knew Mark was almost always armed. It was the distinctly violent encounter that scared. What was more troubling was her lack of response. Yes, she fear coursed through her veins when she found Timothy holding his Glock against Mark's temple, but when it was all said and done, she was not nearly as shaken as she expected, or should have been in her opinion.

And even in the face of all that, the Latina still laid on her back staring up at a Northside Prep business card, with the phone number of the daughter of her father's arch nemesis. Callie reached a shaky hand over to the cordless phone sitting on her nightstand. Her eyes shifted between the card and the daunting number as she pondered what she was going to do. The brunette's fingers skimmed over the numbers of the phone, the occasional beep causing her to jump. Letting out a frustrated sigh, and puffing her hair from her face, Callie finally dialed the number on the card.

"Hello?" Arizona's perky voice asked as she answered the phone.

"Is this Arizona?" Callie asked, mentally kicking herself for such a dumb question.

"Yes, this is she."

"Hi," Callie breathed, "this is Callie…Torres, we, um met the other night."

"Hey Callie" Arizona replied, her slight nervousness showing, though it was evident she tried to mask it. "I was wondering when you were going to call me."

"Sorry it took me so long, I've been…"

"Obsessing?" Arizona offered.

"Yeah," Callie exhaled. "Something like that."

"Good," the blonde responded with a sigh of relief, "I started to think that maybe you didn't quite get my subtle hint the other night."

The Latina quirked an eyebrow and giggled into the phone. "You call cornering me in a bathroom and kissing me subtle?"

"Subtle is my middle name, Calliope," Arizona replied, a flirty tone dancing in her voice.

"That is the second time you have used my full name," Callie remarked. "Normally such a thing results in lots of pain."

"Maybe that's true, but I have a feeling you like me."

The brunette couldn't help the smile spreading across her lips, the fear slipping from her mind. Their flirty banter eased between them like they had known each other for years, like they didn't have a care in the world, like their fathers didn't want to kill each other. "I do like you Arizona, that's why I called. I was wondering if you wanted to go out with me sometime."

The blonde had to bite her lip to keep from squealing into the phone. She didn't want Callie to think she was some sort of crazy person, who was obsessed with her. "Um yeah," Arizona responded, clearing her throat, "I'd love to go out with you."

"Great!" Callie replied, a little more enthusiastically than she intended. "When are you free?"

"Now!" was how Arizona wanted to answer the question, but thankfully she managed to edit herself, and instead said, "Um, I'm pretty free for the rest of the weekend."

"Ok," the Latina said, pulling her calendar off the nightstand to look at her schedule. She was also free for pretty much the entire weekend, but she'd be lying if she said she didn't want to go out tonight. There was just something so enticing about Arizona. Maybe it was her giggle, or the way her curls bounced as they twirled around the dance floor together, or maybe it was how Arizona's lips meshed perfectly with hers, but Callie wanted to be around this woman. "How about tonight?" She decided to ask, hoping it didn't come across as too soon.

Arizona breathed a sigh of relief at Callie's offer. She didn't want to come across as eager, but was thankful that the brunette also wanted to see her. "Tonight sounds perfect," the blonde answered, though that was a bit of a fib. She technically had plans with Teddy, but they could hang out after. "Do you want me to meet you somewhere?"

"How about I pick you up? What's your address?"

"1550 Indiana Ave."

"Ok," Callie said, "I'll see you around 5:00?"

"That sounds good," Arizona said, unable to keep the smile off her face. "I'll see you then."

"Ok, bye."

"Bye," Arizona said, hanging up the phone. She relaxed on her couch, staring up at the ceiling. She broke into a dance while still on her back, squirming on the couch in pure happiness and excitement. A buzz sounded through the apartment, causing the blonde to freeze in surprise. After a moment, her phone vibrated on the table. She picked it up, seeing a text from Teddy telling the blonde to let her into the apartment building or else. Chuckling to herself, Arizona grabbed her keys and headed for the door. She buzzed Teddy in before exiting the apartment, and making her way to the elevator.

Riding it down to the first floor, Arizona smirked as the doors opened to reveal Teddy waiting for her. "Don't look so happy to see me, Teddy," the blonde joked as Teddy stepped into the elevator. Arizona inserted her key, and pressed the button for the top floor.  
The journalist rolled her eyes. "Sorry, if I'm grouchy because I have to wait outside to be buzzed in, then wait for you to come down on the elevator to get me, and then we can finally get up to your apartment. You basically live in prison."

"It's called safety, Teddy," Arizona replied, stepping off the elevator, and walking down the hallway. "I like going to sleep at night, knowing that I'm not going to be robbed, or worse."

"Right, all that craziness with your dad."

"Shhh Teddy," Arizona admonished as she unlocked the apartment. "I really don't want to talk about my dad, or any of that."

"We could talk about a certain woman you've got a crush on."  
The blonde collapsed on the couch, wishing she could just not talk about this with Teddy. She didn't want to keep her date with Callie a secret, but she felt like she had no choice. "Or we could not."

"Whatever," the journalist said as she rummaged through Arizona's cupboards looking for something to eat. She understood her friend's hesitancy to discuss whatever was going on between her and Callie Torres, but to her knowledge they hadn't even been talking, so it was harmless. "What are we doing tonight?"

Crap. This was what Arizona had been dreading. There was very little hope that Teddy would let her change their plans without some sort of interrogation. "I was thinking you could come over for a moviefest around 10?"

Finding some peanut butter, Teddy placed it on the counter before reaching into a drawer to get a spoon. "I thought we were going to dinner," she said, scooping some of the peanut butter onto the spoon and putting it into her mouth.

"Yeah, something came up downtown that I have to deal with," Arizona said nervously, hoping beyond all hope Teddy would not pursue it.

"Mhm," the other blonde said slowly. Part of her really wanted to poke and prod into Arizona's sudden plans, but decided against it. It was clear her friend was nervous, so chances were that  
Arizona was trying to hide something from her. It probably involved Callie Torres, but Teddy really didn't want to get involved with that. "Ok. Just call me when you want me to come over."

"I will," Arizona said with a nod. "Do you want to go grab some lunch with me?"

"Definitely," Teddy replied, smiling.

* * *

"Do you really think this is wise, Callie?" Addison asked, plopping down into a chair in Callie's office.

Callie smiled sadly. "Of course it's not wise Addison. If I had the strength, I would just walk away, but I don't. I tried not calling, but this morning, I was just staring at my phone and suddenly it was her voice on the other end." The Latina sighed. All of this was completely true, and the situation sucked. "It's one date Addison, I'm not proposing. Who knows? We could end up not having any chemistry or something."

Addison laughed uproariously at the brunette's comment. "That is complete bullshit, Callie. Anyone who saw the two of you at the benefit could see the sparks flying between the two of you. Personally, I was surprised it took you two days to call her," the redhead said, picking at her long nails. "Let's just hope Mark doesn't find out."

The Latina put her head in her hands. "Why am I doing this to myself?"

"Why the hell wouldn't you? Who cares about the problems between your fathers? You only live once, Cal."

Callie looked up at her friend with a hint of sadness in her brown eyes. If she only knew. Addison was lucky; she sat in her cushy office not dealing with the craziness that was her father's business. "Speaking of only living once, Addie," the brunette said, changing the subject, "when are you going to make Mark a one-woman man?"

"That is never going to happen, and you damn well know it."

The brunette smirked across the desk at her friend. "Is it so bad that I want my two best friends, who are so obviously in love with each other, to be together and have a happy ever after?"

"It's just not going to happen, Cal," Addison said, her tone rising just a bit. She took a deep breath, deciding this wasn't something that really needed to upset her. After a long pause, she returned her focus to Callie. "So when is this date?"

"Um…"Callie stammered, checking her watch. "Shit. In forty-five minutes. I need to get home and change before picking her up."

"Cutting it close aren't you?" Addison commented, raising an eyebrow.

"She lives on Indiana Ave, so it's not like I have to get across town."

"That's convenient."

"We'll see," Callie laughed. She gathered her things, gave Addison a quick hug, and headed for the elevator.

During the short ride down to the lobby, Callie considered stopping by her father's office, but quickly decided against it. She figured he'd hold her up and then grill her about her plans for the evening. That was something she wished to avoid. Plus, she really didn't want to be randomly assigned to pick up shipments for tomorrow, and she could more easily refuse if her father didn't know her plans. He always managed to find the holes in her schedule, and demand her time. This weekend, however, she was going to shut everything out and just focus on herself. Mark always said she needed to be more selfish anyway.

Luckily for Callie, her apartment was only a block over from the office, so she was able to run up and slip into a pair of dark wash skinny jeans and a black top, with a low neckline. She finished the outfit with ballet flats and her black diamond cross necklace. The necklace was a gift from her father after she graduated from Rollins College, and she was completely enamored with it.

Glancing at her phone, Callie realized she only had ten minutes to get over to Arizona's building. She left her apartment quickly, walking the couple of blocks to the blonde's in record time. With three minutes to spare, the Latina arrived in front of the glass entrance. She reached out a long finger to press the buzzer, but the door suddenly opened, and Arizona appeared beside her. Callie drew in a breath while taking in the blonde's form. She wore a simple ocean blue dress that accentuated her eyes perfectly, and her feet adorned a pair of white strappy sandals. The material clung to her in the most delicious of ways as she walked; causing the Latina to seriously wonder if this woman had it out for her. "Wow," Callie managed to say, "you look amazing?"

"You sure?" Arizona asked nervously. "Because I feel over dressed. I mean you look great, breathtakingly stunning, but I feel like the dress was a bit much. Yeah," She decided, turning away from her date, "I'll change."

Callie caught her hand, feeling the sparks shoot through her body at the contact. "Please don't," she whispered shyly. "You're dressed perfectly."

"Thank you," Arizona said with a smile, her blue eyes twinkling. The Latina tugged on Arizona's hand, pulling her down the stairs and onto the street. Keeping their fingers entwined, Callie led them towards Michigan Avenue. The blonde had absolutely no idea where they were going, and it was killing her. "Calliope, care to share our destination for this evening?"

Callie smirked as she looked over to the blonde. "Only if you tell me how you know my first name."

Arizona couldn't help but giggle a little at Callie's demand. "Would you rather I call you Callie?"

"No," the Latina answered truthfully. "I like the way it sounds coming from you."

"Ok then," the blonde replied, thinking the conversation was over.

As they continued down the street, Callie swung their arms back and forth. When she got nervous, she did some childlike things; this was one of those. Honestly, though, she didn't care. From what she knew about Arizona, she would find her random behavior to be more endearing than annoying. It still didn't change the fact that the blonde knew her full name, and It was not information Callie gave her. "Tell me."

"Fine," Arizona conceded, "Teddy told me."

"Teddy?" The brunette asked, not having a clue who that person was. "Who is that?"

Arizona swallowed hard; she had a feeling this information wasn't going to go over smoothly. "Teddy Altman, she's a journalist working for the Chicago Sun Times. She uh," the blonde paused briefly, deciding how to word the next part of the statement. "She um, did a story on your father a couple of years ago."

The Latina tensed immediately. She remembered that when the Sun Times ran that story. She was a sophomore at Rollins at the time, and that information was printed in the article. She received so much hate mail about her father; it terrified her into not going home that summer. That was the only summer she spent away from home, instead going with Addison to New York. It was a great summer, but the circumstances leading to it didn't exactly warm her heart. Now, come to find out, the author of said article was Arizona's best friend.

Perfect.

"So do you like pizza?" Callie asked, breaking the silence shrouding them.

Arizona smiled, the light of happiness shining through to her eyes. "Yes, I love it."  
The brunette couldn't help but let out a sigh of relief. Hopefully, they could just stay away from the dangerous topics, and this night could go well. "Great, because we're here," She said, gesturing just above Arizona's head to the massive California Pizza Kitchen sign.

"CPK? Really?" Arizona asked, trying to contain her excitement.

Callie nodded. "Yes," she said slowly, a hint of uncertainty lingering in her voice, "is that a good thing?"

The blonde nodded vigorously. "Yes! It's probably my favorite restaurant. Definitely a guilty pleasure."

Score one for Callie Torres. The Latina couldn't keep the grin off her face. "That's great. I haven't been here in awhile, so it should be fun."

The brunette held open the door for Arizona, a gesture the blonde found to be extremely cute. She could tell that Callie tensed when they were talking about Teddy, and she guessed it had something to do with the article, but she didn't want to push it. She had so much hope for this date, and she'd be damned if it went up in flames because of their families.

Thankfully, that didn't happen. Their dinner was nice. They went early enough to avoid the families with screaming children, and were able to eat in peace. The conversation flowed easily, and it seemed like they talked about everything. Arizona learned about Callie's childhood, and she told the blonde hilarious stories about her time at Choate. Apparently boarding school was just as crazy as everyone made it seem.

By the time they were getting ready to leave, Arizona felt the butterflies tingling in the pit of her stomach full-force. She'd been nervous all afternoon, but she'd been so engrossed in their conversation that she'd forgotten. The blonde was coming to find that was something she really liked about the Latina. She commanded every ounce of Arizona's attention, and the blond was hopelessly at her mercy. She wanted Callie to know everything about her, and she wanted to get to know the Latina as well, a feeling that was not common for Arizona. She lived her life being relatively guarded, so wanting to open up to someone, especially so soon scared her a little bit.  
Her last serious relationship didn't end well. Her girlfriend, Joanne, fell for her hard and hast, and Arizona simply didn't feel the same. They were together for a little over a year, but most of the time was spent squabbling because Joanne was so insecure in the relationship. As Arizona glanced over at Callie, feeling her heart flutter just a little bit in her chest, she prayed the brunette felt it too because she really didn't want to be Joanne in this situation. Judging by the way Callie constantly smiled through dinner; however, she didn't think that was going to be a huge issue.

As the two women exited the restaurant, Callie reached for Arizona's hand, a questioning look decorating her features. The blonde nodded and smiled, looping her fingers through the Latina's. The evening summer air wisped across their skin. Callie noticed her date's eyes light up as she looked across the street. The brunette's eyes followed, and she giggled once she saw what Arizona was looking at. "Really Arizona?"

"Oh come on, Calliope," she said playfully, "like you haven't wanted to go."

"I'll have you know," Callie answered, continuing their playful banter, "I went the first summer it opened, and kicked Mark's ass on Hydro Thunder."

The blonde arched her eyebrows. "Oh them's be fightin' words. I'm the queen of Hydro Thunder."

Smiling, Callie checked the street, before dragging them across and into the well lit building. Surrounded by the sights and sounds surrounded with sports, the brunette felt great memories wash over her. ESPN Zone Chicago opened the summer of her sophomore year of high school. She remembered coming with Mark almost every day for a month to play the extensive amounts of games. It had been years, though, since she'd visited the place.

She followed Arizona up the stairs to the massive game room. It was separated from the restaurant portion of the building. The blonde looked around, her eyes bathing in the dancing lights. She absolutely adored games. There was this competitive spirit living inside her that clawed to the surface whenever a game was involved. She loved winning and loved playing. This was going to be fun.

They spent the next hour and a half jumping from game to game to game, racking up the tickets as they went along. Callie was having a blast with Arizona as they made their way through the arcade. This was not originally part of her plan – she hadn't planned past dinner – but she was glad they came. The brunette gave her tickets to Arizona, allowing her to pick out a prize. She picked a monkey stuffed animal, which was adorable.

Monkey in hand; they began their somewhat long walk back to Arizona's building. They chattered back and forth, holding hands and smiling. Callie couldn't help but think she could get used to this. Never had she been so hopeful after one date, but Arizona made everything so easy. She could talk to her for hours. Reaching the door to Arizona's building, the brunette swung her into a tight hug and whispered against her hair, "I had a really good time tonight, Arizona."

"Me too, Calliope, me too," the blonde responded, pulling just slightly.

As Arizona tilted her head upwards, the Latina became captivated by her luscious lips. Her head dipped, their breath mingling briefly, before Callie brushed her lips ever so softly against Arizona's. It was hesitant at first, a question of what was appropriate, one which the blonde answered in kind as she pressed her lips fully against Callie's. A strangled moan escaped the Latina's lips upon feeling Arizona's soft tongue caress her lips. Callie granted entrance, slipping her own tongue into the blonde's mouth. As soon as their tongues brushed, the brunette's world came crashing down all around her. What was once a tender goodnight kiss became more and more frantic as their tongues continued an erotic dance. Arizona melded her hands into the Latina's dark hair, pressing her hips against Callie's. The movement elicited another moan from the brunette. Control was rapidly slipping from both their minds as they continued to explore one another in front of the apartment building.

Needing oxygen, Callie gently eased out of the kiss, much to Arizona's chagrin. They stared at one another, cheeks flushed, and chests heaving. "Wow," Callie breathed, trying to regain her bearings.

"Yeah," Arizona agreed.

"So which floor do you live on?" the Latina asked, trying to distract herself from pinning Arizona against the railing. It wasn't working.

"The top one," the blonde replied, her eyes refocusing on Callie's lips. "I have this awesome balcony overlooking the city. I love it."

"That sounds nice," Callie replied as she dipped her head once again.

"Yeah," Arizona said breathily before recapturing the brunette's lips between her own. Their lips slid together, their tongues dancing languidly. It wasn't hurried or frantic, but still so sexy. Arizona loved the way Callie kissed her. She never wanted to stop. After a few moments, however, she pulled away. It took every bit of her concentration and focus to do so, but she didn't just want to tumble into bed, which they would have if Arizona tasted those lips for very much longer. "I'm going to go up. Good night, Calliope."

Callie gently dropped a soft kiss onto Arizona's cheek, before taking her hand and doing the same against her knuckles. The blonde just about melted at the sweetness. "Good night, Arizona," the Latina murmured, slipping out of the embrace. She began to walk the couple blocks home, but turned one last time over her shoulder to shoot the blonde a heart stopping smile.  
Turning back around, Callie continued her walk home. Thinking about the good night kiss, she shook her head in disbelief. The amount of attraction she felt towards Arizona surprised her. She thought the blonde was absolutely gorgeous the first time she saw her, but admiring from a safe distance didn't compare to actually feeling that amazing body pressed against hers. When she felt the blonde grind her hips against hers, she almost lost it. Even just thinking about it now was enough to throw her into a tailspin.

She opened the door to her spacious apartment, tossing her stuff onto the table against the wall.  
She went to the kitchen, grabbed a glass, and poured herself some wine. It was only 8:30, so going to bed wasn't exactly an option. She also didn't want to be grilled by Mark – who would pick up on her good mood – or worse Addison. Instead she opted to curl up on her couch with a book. Hopefully that would keep her mind off of a certain blonde woman.

It didn't. Within an hour, Callie gave up on the book. She tried to watch a movie, but that didn't really help either. Her roommate was at her boyfriend's place, so no one was home to make fun of her, and she couldn't concentrate on anything except the feeling of Arizona's lips against her own. This was ridiculous.

Sighing, she pulled out her cell phone and sent Arizona a quick text: _Is it bad that I sort of miss you?_

In her own apartment, Arizona jumped as she felt her phone vibrate in the pocket of the pants she'd put on once she got home. She smiled as she read Callie's text before sending back her own: _Definitely not. I'm missing you too. I wish I didn't have to wait to see you again._

Reading Arizona's reply, an idea popped into the Latina's head. She was impulsive, sometimes to a fault, but in this instance she decided it was cute and definitely romantic. Her fingers moved at lightning speed as she texted the blonde: _You don't. Balcony. 10 minutes._

Upon sending the message, the brunette bolted for the door, grabbing her black leather jacket on her way out. She walked briskly to Arizona's building, going around the back instead of trying to get into the front. She thanked God there was a fire escape she could access, otherwise her plans would be greatly foiled. Climbing the ladders, she hoped Arizona would let her exit through her door. She reached the top in just a few minutes, hoisting herself onto the platform she assumed was Arizona's balcony.

"What was that?" She heard a voice – not Arizona's – ask from inside.

"I'll go check," another voice said, one that definitely belonged to Arizona. Callie leaned against the wall next to the door, out of sight. She heard the blonde step onto the platform, and smiled as her golden hair shone in the moonlight.

Arizona smirked and leaned against the railing, her eyes locking with Callie's in the darkness. "Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou Romeo?"

Callie snickered, emerging from the shadows of the wall. "You think you're clever," she commented, a playful smile tugging at her lips.

The blonde snaked her arms around the Latina's neck. "Not clever. Truthful."

"Because I am a Torres and you a Robbins," Callie answered knowingly, nuzzling Arizona's neck. "Also, why do I have to be Romeo?"

Arizona giggled, her shoulders shaking in the Latina's arms. "Because you climbed onto my balcony. But it doesn't matter, you'll always be Calliope to me, a name which I love. I don't know if I don't you that."

Callie placed a kiss on the top of the smaller woman's head. "I know you like Calliope. It's my last name that's the problem."

At the brunette's words, Arizona looked up and smiled, a hint of mischief sparking in her ocean blue eyes. "What's in a name? That which we call a rose by any other word would smell as sweet."

The Latina arched an eyebrow. Arizona was quoting Shakespeare, something Callie found insanely romantic. She searched her brain for a quality response, a smile reappearing on her lips as she found the perfect words. "My name, dear saint, is hateful to myself because it is an enemy to thee. Had I it written, I would tear the word."

Arizona stood on her tiptoes, pressing her lips against Callie's in a lingering yet tender kiss. She pulled away slowly, whispering "I take thee at thy word. Call me but love, and I'll be new baptized; henceforth I never will be Juliet."

The brunette smirked before pinching Arizona's side. "That's so my line," she accused playfully.

Arizona tilted her head. "I thought you didn't want to be Romeo."

The Latina didn't answer. Instead she reclaimed the blonde's lips with hers in a fierce kiss. She swept Arizona into her arms, allowing herself to become completely lost in their embrace.

"Arizona!" The other voice Callie heard earlier called from inside the apartment.

"Coming Teddy!" she replied, returning her attention and her lips to Callie. The brunette tore her lips from Arizona's, kissing her way down her neck and along the flesh exposed by the collar of her top. The blonde sighed as she moved her hands through Callie's hair. "Calliope," she breathed, "I have to go."

"Arizona, what are you doing?" Teddy called again.

"Give me a minute!" the blonde yelled back. She quickly kissed Callie again before retreating to her door. "I have to go," she said again. "Meet me at the Borders on Lake Street tomorrow?"

"Yeah. I'll be there around noon."

"Ok, I'll see you then," Arizona replied before stealing one last kiss. She looked after Callie as she descended the fire escape. "Good night, good night! Parting is such sweet sorrow that I shall say good night till it be morrow," she spoke softly after the retreating Latina, before blowing her a kiss and going inside.

Reaching the bottom of the fire escape, Callie looked back up to the balcony in longing. _"_Sleep dwell upon thine eyes, peace in thy breast. Would I were sleep and peace, so sweet to rest," she whispered before disappearing into the evening night.


	4. Kiss Me 'til the Morning Light

A/N: So I'm sorry this is coming a couple of days later than I intended. Also, please note the rating change to M. This is for a couple of reasons, and though I'm not sure it's completely necessary, I'm changing it just to be safe. I hope you all enjoy this chapter, it was fun to write. It's also mostly unbeta-ed, so I'll be back to edit it later today/tomorrow morning. Thank you to Skones and Ali for always being there. Also thank you to everyone who is following this story, and of course to those who have been reviewing. :)

Happy Reading,

~KB~

* * *

Chapter 4: Kiss Me 'til the Morning Light

The bass pumped through the lavish night club, the dance floor crowded with slick bodies drenched in neon lights. Located in the underbelly of one of the Torres owned buildings on the West side of the city, Club Baila was filled to the brim with some of Chicago's shadiest characters. Mark relaxed in his leather armchair behind his desk. The wall in front of his desk was all glass windows, overlooking the activity of the club.

It'd been a good month. After the scare at the docks, things improved drastically. For starters, there weren't any more run-ins with the Robbins clan. In fact, all was quiet on that front, which most days caused Mark to perk his ears up a bit, for something was usually coming. The year of Callie's graduation, the two families went months without any incident, but the night of his best friend's return to the city, the Colonel sent a message. He sent a squad of goons to the apartment Carlos just began paying for as a place for his eldest daughter to live. They completely trashed it, ripping open the cushions, smashing the chairs and glass surfaces, and going so far as to put a hole in one of the walls. Thankfully, Callie hadn't landed yet, and to this day, she had no idea what happened that night.

Carlos himself, accompanied by Mark, went to assess and clean up the damage. A knife stuck a letter to the door, surprising both Mark and Carlos. Mark would never forget the look on the patriarch's face as he pulled the knife from the door, pocketing the note. He often wondered what was on that note to cause such a dark shadow to cross the Hispanic man's features, but Carlos never offered that information, and Mark knew it was best not to pry.

Shuffling his papers, the club owner pushed those thoughts from his brain. He refused to let an old memory ruin his evening. Packing up his things, a knock on the door drew his attention to the entrance to his office. He looked up, eyes scanning long legs covered in black jeans. Continuing his journey upward, his gaze hungrily roamed over the luscious body in front of him before settling on a pair of icy grey eyes.

"You'd think I was standing here naked," the woman quipped from the doorway, "not wearing jeans and a t-shirt."

"Hello Addison," Mark said, his voice adopting his usual flirty tone. "To what do I owe this pleasure?"

Addison smirked and placed her hand on the door handle. As much as she hated to admit it, Mark Sloan had the ability to weaken her knees with a simple look. "Callie wants to do a late dinner. We're supposed to meet her over on Lake St."

Mark rolled his eyes. "Is she at that Borders again? What's with her newfound taste in reading?"  
"You'll have to ask her," the redhead replied with a shrug. She approached the tall man slowly, her white t-shirt riding up slightly with each sway of her hips, exposing just a hint of the pale skin of her stomach. "So are you coming?"

Mark's breath hitched and his muscles tensed. Addison Forbes Montgomery drove him crazy. He still remembered the first summer she came home with Callie from Choate. His best friend didn't know it, but they slept together a couple of times during those months. After, they both decided to never tell Callie, though it wouldn't matter at this point. He was far passed denying his physical attraction to this woman. "Yeah," he breathed, straightening his tie, and trying to regain his composure.

"Good," the lawyer replied as she straightened out her clothes and smoothed her hair, pursing her lips as if she was deep in thought. She flipped open her phone, shooting Callie a quick text before returning her attention to Mark. "Ok then, let's go."

Mark followed Addison out of the office and back into the light filled atmosphere that was Baila. The light danced across their skin as they slid through the crowd. Girls kept latching themselves to Mark, causing a thin lipped smirk to cross the redhead's face. Once they finally made it out of the club, Addison glared at Mark. "You know," she said, her voice laced with annoyance, "you're lucky I don't report you, Sloan. There were drugs swimming all over that place, not to mention the underage girls rubbing all over you and calling you Papi."

Opening the door to his Lamborghini, the club manager smiled snidely. "Green isn't a good color on you Addie."

"Ugh please," Addison groaned, climbing into the passenger seat, "don't flatter yourself, Mark."

They drove in an uncomfortable silence back to downtown, neither of them willing to capitulate. This tension between them was not new at all. They often fought. Callie usually joked that it could be attributed to the massive amount of sexual tension flickering between them. Addison, however, begged to differ. She made no denial of her attraction to Mark, but as soon as he opened his mouth, she was usually reminded why they never became more than a casual fling every once in awhile.

Besides, they just didn't mesh well. She was a lawyer, constantly having to turn a blind eye to the illicit activities of Mark and "la familia" as he liked to refer to it. Of course, she served as both Mark and Callie's lawyer, so everything was under privilege. Still, it almost felt like an abuse to just turn the other way. She didn't feel terrible enough, however, to cause a major shift in her behavior. She'd known Callie and Mark far longer than she'd known about certain details of the family business, and for some reason, that was all the justification she needed.

The car continued down State Street, eventually coming to a stop just outside the Borders. Callie emerged from the door, followed closely by a woman in a hooded blue sweatshirt. Mark's interest peaked as he saw what appeared to be a short squeeze of their hands. She turned the corner quickly before Mark could get a good look at her, but he saw a flit of blonde hair as she disappeared from sight.

"Who was that?" Mark asked as Callie slid into the back portion of the car behind Addison.  
Callie furrowed her brow in confusion. "Who are you talking about?"

"That girl in the blue hoodie who dashed around the corner right behind you."

The Latina grimaced, folding her body into the area behind the front seats. She hated it when Mark drove; his car was built for two people and there was absolutely no room for compromise on that fact. Add her current pretzel situation to Mark's nagging about a certain blonde in a blue hoodie, and Callie was not a happy camper. "I don't know who you're talking about Mark."  
"Sure you don't," he muttered under his breath, putting the car into gear and speeding down the street.

Callie's heart tightened at her friend's skepticism. He was right to be suspicious; the woman he asked about was in fact Arizona. They'd been hiding for the past month, using the Borders as a rendezvous point. They spent time together ducking into cafés and shops downtown. Basically, they'd spent the better part of a month locked up in their own bubble. While she loved the bubble, and all the kisses that came with it, Callie felt drained. Between the constant hiding and lack of sex, she could hardly wrap her mind around anything.

The lack of sex.

It was a big problem. Ever since their first date, it'd become apparent they wanted nothing more than to rip the clothing from one another's bodies, but they were "taking it slow". God Callie hated that phrase: taking it slow. What did that even mean? At what point did slow include sex? That was her question. She needed to ask Arizona about that later.

"Hey Torres," Mark called back to Callie. "What's on your mind? You seem a little distant."

"Nothing," the Latina responded quickly. "I'm just looking around."

"Right," he replied, skeptically.

"Mark," Addison admonished in a hushed tone, "just let it go."

Grimacing in the front seat, Mark decided to drop it as he pulled over at a little café on Michigan Ave. They walked into the small eatery, each quickly ordering some coffee and scones, before taking a seat at a booth in the far corner of the place. Callie swirled her finger along the rim of her cup of coffee, distractedly staring off into space. She heard the voices of her two friends drifting through her ears, but she wasn't engaged at all. The only thing on her mind were the blue eyes of a certain blonde from an enemy family.

"Earth to Calliope," Addison said, waving a hand in her face.

The brunette jolted from her reverie. "Huh? What?"

"You're phone has been vibrating on the table," Mark answered, motioning to the now blinking Blackberry. "What's with you anyway? Everything ok?"

"Yeah," the Latina replied hurriedly, flipping open her phone, "everything's fine." Her lips curled into a smile as she read the message on her phone. She stood suddenly, grabbing her purse. "I actually have to go you guys. I'm going to meet a friend, but I'll see you both tomorrow sometime right?"

"Um sure?" Mark said with a shrug of his shoulders. He was unbelievably confused. It wasn't that Callie didn't have friends, but outside of Addison, Mark, and her roommate, Cristina, there were few people with whom she shared friendly conversation on a regular basis. "I'll call you, I guess."

The brunette smiled gratefully before bolting from the café. She quickly dashed across the street and out of sight, hoping Mark wouldn't follow her. She knew that he would only be protecting her, but Callie simply didn't want or need that type of protection. She was being careful enough. She and Arizona had been dating for a month, and yet other than Addison and maybe Teddy, no one had any inkling of what was going on.

Mark's suspicion, however, reminded Callie of the pertinence that they never become complacent. As much as she hated hiding, being with Arizona mandated it, so she resolved not to get caught. She and the blonde had talked about it briefly, but Callie wasn't entirely convinced that Arizona fully understood the ramifications and consequences if they were ever found out. She'd seen the hate between Timothy and Mark first hand, and nothing about this spat in which their fathers engaged was benign like Arizona seemed to think.

That was probably the hardest part of their relationship thus far, the fact that Arizona was so naïve. On one hand Callie didn't want to ruin her pure spirit, but on another, she knew in her gut that her girlfriend's extremely optimistic and hopeful vision of human kind simply wasn't feasible. And yet, the brunette found herself wanting to believe. She wanted to believe there was goodness buried deep inside them all, but even all of that good could be converted to a perversion of its original nature, which was why she viewed the Colonel with such disdain.

That was the topic they didn't talk about: their families, Callie thought as she prepared to climb the ladders of the fire escape. She didn't understand why Arizona bothered living in such a secure building when anyone could climb up the fire escape. It completely negated the alarms and locks, but the blonde apparently hadn't picked up on that, and Callie was not about to pop that bubble. This had become somewhat routine for them; Callie climbing up the fire escape to steal a few kisses, and leaving in the dead of night so no one could spot her slinking into the night.

Pulling herself up the final rung, Callie planted her feet on the balcony surface. She lightly tapped on the door opening out to where she stood. Arizona opened the door, the curtains billowing behind her in the gentle breeze. "Calliope," she said, stepping towards her girlfriend and enveloping her into a long hug.

"Mmmm," Callie groaned, breathing in the sweet scent of Arizona's hair. She loved the way she smelled. It was a mixture of strawberries and something the brunette couldn't quite place. "Hi."

"I missed you," the blonde confessed as she burrowed herself further into Callie's arms.

"I missed you too. It's a bit late don't you think?"

Arizona nodded, knowing it was the truth. "Yeah. I couldn't sleep."

The Latina frowned. "I'm sorry, Arizona. Is there anything I can do?"

"You could stay the night?" Arizona asked hopefully, looking up to meet Callie's brown eyes.

The brunette's breath hitched. They had never done this before. Usually when they met up this late, Callie didn't stay long, nor did she go inside. They decided that both would help them maintain their slowness in the relationship. For Arizona to not only invite her in, but also let her sleep over was a huge step. "Sure, but I have to leave early for the office."

The blonde couldn't help the smile dancing across her lips. "That's perfect. I have school in the morning anyway. As long as you hold me through the night, I'll be good."

Callie allowed herself to be pulled inside the sliding doors into Arizona's bedroom. She stripped off her leather jacket, quickly realizing she didn't have any sleepwear at all. "Do you have an extra top and maybe some shorts?"

"Sure," the blonde replied with a smile, walking over to her dresser. She pulled out a long pair of white shorts and a simple blue t-shirt. She handed the items to Callie, placing a kiss on her cheek. "Are these ok? I know you don't like blue, but…"

Callie silenced her with a kiss. "It's ok. Thank you," she said genuinely before discarding her own shirt in favor of the one offered by Arizona. She hopped into the long pair of shorts, and slid into bed next to a waiting Arizona. She wrapped her arms around the smaller woman, pulling her close. "Good night," she whispered into her ear.

"Good night," the blonde replied before drifting off into a deep sleep.

A groan escaped Arizona's lips as her alarm went off the following morning. She reached over to her nightstand to turn it off, stretching her entire body as she did so. Her head lazily turned to the other side of the bed, her blonde curls splayed over the pillow. She was surprised to find the spot next to her unoccupied and cold. She pulled herself out of the bed to go search for her missing in action girlfriend.

The blonde furrowed her brow in confusion. Callie was nowhere in the apartment. Padding into the kitchen, Arizona reached for the coffee. Her fingers brushed a piece of paper attached to the coffee maker, causing a smile to appear on her lips. She peeled off the note, quickly taking in the words.

_Good Morning Sunshine,_

_Sorry I wasn't there when you woke up. I really had to get into the office today. My father called at 6:00, demanding my presence by 7:00, which was when your alarm was scheduled to go off. I took the liberty of making you breakfast, though. It's in the fridge, so all you have to do is heat it up. I'll see you tonight! Meet me at Girl and the Goat at 8:00._

_Have a great day!_

_-C_

Opening the fridge, Arizona decided that she officially had the best girlfriend ever. A plate of French toast stared back at the blonde, and she nearly squealed at the sight. She loved French toast. More importantly, she told Callie this nearly a month ago in passing conversation. Arizona loved that about the Latina; she always seemed to be listening. She heard and processed every word Arizona said. The blonde couldn't help but feel full of worth whenever she was around Callie. It was the best feeling in the world to know that someone listened to her.

Both her father and her brother constantly wrote her off, like she didn't know enough to weigh in on certain issues. It annoyed her to say the least. With Callie, though, everything she said had merit. Arizona could see it in the brunette's eyes as she weighed the blonde's opinion with her own. It made conversation between them interesting. They talked for hours at a time, which was good because they needed to do something to try and diffuse the sexual tension literally sparking between them.

Despite the fact the waiting tortured her, Arizona was glad they were doing it. She truly wanted to get to know Callie before rushing into bed. It was clear from the very beginning; they would be fine in the department. Truthfully, the blonde wanted to be sure Callie's intentions were absolutely genuine. There was never any real doubt, but given their situations, she admittedly acted with a bit of caution, save the stunt she pulled in the bathroom of course.

After eating the French toast Callie made for her, Arizona went about her morning routine. She showered, put on her clothes, and grabbed the bag she needed for school. Checking her watch, she breathed a sigh of relief that she was going to be on time. She pulled her door shut behind her as she made her way out of the apartment and to the elevator. As she exited the elevator, her eyes narrowed. Timothy stood in the lobby, apparently waiting for her.

"Don't look so happy to see me, sis," Timothy quipped, rocking back and forth with his hands in the pockets of his khaki colored slacks.

"What are you doing here, Tim?" Arizona asked somewhat harshly. "I have to get to school."

A toothy grin appeared on his face. "I just wanted to give you a ride Arizona."

"Fine," Arizona conceded, following him out of the building to his car. She slid into the Audi TT begrudgingly, unhappy that her students would probably see her in such an ostentatious car. She looked over at her brother, who tapped on the steering wheel nervously. She could tell something was on his mind. "Why are you taking me to school today, Tim?"

Timothy shrugged. "Can't I do something nice for my sister?"

"Sure you can, you just normally don't," the blonde answered.

"OK fine," he said with a sigh. "Dad thinks you've been acting weird and wants to know what's going on? He was hoping you could stop by the penthouse tonight for dinner."

The car stopped by the curb of Northside Prep, and Arizona was thankful. She didn't want to deal with an interrogation right now. "I have plans with Teddy tonight," she lied easily as she got out of the car. "Just tell Dad to call me if he wants to have me over."

Timothy flinched at the slamming sound of the door being closed. There was no doubt in his mind that his sister was acting strangely. He pulled out his phone as he put the car back in gear. Selecting Teddy from his contacts, he put the phone to his ear as he speed off down the street.  
"Hello?" the journalist's voice answered the phone.

"Teddy," Timothy answered, "this is Timothy Robbins, Arizona's brother."

"I know who you are Tim, Arizona and I have been friends long enough," Teddy replied, her tone playful.

"Yeah," Timothy chuckled. "I guess that's true. Hey listen; do you have plans with my sister tonight?"

Teddy noticeably hesitated before continuing. "Is that what she told you?"

"Yes," Timothy said, hoping his honest response would draw something out of Teddy.

"Then yes," The journalist responded.

The blonde sighed audibly and clutched his phone tightly in his hand. "You don't have to lie for her Teddy."

"I have to go," Teddy said hurriedly. "I'm working on a big story. Bye Tim."

Before he even had a chance to respond, he heard a click followed by a dial tone in his ear. "Perfect," he muttered under his breath. . That went well.

Pulling over at the Temple Building, Timothy left his car with a valet before entering the building. His fists clenched at his sides as he rode up the elevator to his father's office. He stepped out of the steel lift onto the office littered floor on which both he and his father worked. Poking his head into the Colonel's office, Timothy found him on the phone. His father, however, motioned for him to come in and take a seat.

"So," Daniel started after hanging up the phone, "how did it go with your sister this morning?"

"She said that she has plans tonight and if you want her to come over, you should call her."

Daniel ran a hand through his graying locks. "Do you think she really has stuff to do tonight, or do you think she's avoiding me?"

Timothy shrugged. "It's hard to say," he replied honestly. "I called Teddy, and she said they were hanging out tonight, but it seemed a little off to me."

"I want you to tail her," the Colonel said. "Don't be obvious about it, and don't overly invade her privacy, but know where she's at and who she's with."

"Yes, Sir."

The Colonel smirked. "As a reward, you should go pick yourself up something nice."

"Thank you, Sir," Timothy replied, rising from the chair. He shook his father's hand and exited the office. Originally he thought he would stay in and do some work today, but paying a visit to a certain jewelry store seemed much more appealing.

He waved off the valet who tried to give Timothy his car, knowing that he would return in a little under an hour. He crossed the street, heading over to the store which was a block away. The store was always listed as closed, but once Timothy entered the key code, the door opened and the lights turned on. The place was like a massive safe, he decided as he ran his fingers along the glass cases.

Timothy's eyes fell on a diamond studded watch. It was elegant and flashy at the same time; just his style. Opening the case, Timothy slipped the watch onto his wrist, smiling as the added weight suited him perfectly. This was the first time his father allowed him to come here. The place held all of the important jewelry pieces the Colonel had collected over the years. Some of them he bought, and some of them he…didn't. Arizona didn't know about this place; she'd freak if she did.

He loved his sister, but she was such a do-gooder. On top of the trust fund they received when they turned twenty-one, the Colonel also gave them a relatively lucrative allowance. While she used the trust fund to buy things such as her condo (which was still modest in comparison to Timothy's sprawling studio apartment downtown), she once told Timothy that she donated the entirety of her allowance to charity, living solely off her teacher's salary. He'd nearly choked on his water.

No, he decided, pulling the door shut behind him, she would never learn of this place. There were some things she simply didn't need to know. He shoved his hands back into his pockets, beginning his walk back to the Temple Building. The new watch on his wrist occupied his attention when someone bumped harshly into his shoulder. Timothy's head snapped over his shoulder, his eyes locking with the taller man's. "Sloan," he hissed, keeping his hands jammed in his pockets.

"Nice watch Robbins," Mark sneered, brushing open his jacket to reveal his concealed hip holster. "Run along back to Daddy now." Mark stifled a chuckle watching Timothy retreat quickly. The youngest Robbins was an arrogant prick, someone the world would be better off without. Sending him away quickly never failed to amuse Mark.

The enforcer for La Familia was on his way to his boss's office. Carlos wanted him to come in today to discuss the development of some land, and the family's current real estate holdings. Ducking inside the bank, Mark wasted no time in ascending up the elevator, using the special key to get onto Carlos' floor. The doors opened to reveal the familiar black marble that was his boss's signature.

"Ahh, Mark," Carlos greeted him warmly, giving him a hug and kiss on the cheek.

"Papa T," Mark replied just as affectionately. "You wanted to see me."

"Yes, I wanted to talk about Calliope."

"Of course, Papa," Mark responded. "What about her?"

"I want you to follow her," Carlos said, pouring himself a glass of water. "She's been acting weird. She's not calling me, working fewer hours, and I'd be willing to bet she hasn't been around you and Addison as much either."

Mark's mind flashed back to the previous night, conjuring the image of the blonde in the blue hoodie. "I think you're right, Sir. I'll keep an eye on her."

"Good."

*******  
Callie waited patiently for Arizona at the restaurant. Girl and the Goat just opened a few weeks ago, but was receiving rave reviews from food critics in the city. She had to pull more than a few strings to get them in, but it was worth it in her mind. She stood from the table as Arizona approached her. She looked absolutely gorgeous in her yellow dress, which stopped just above her knee. "Hi," Callie greeted her, dropping a lingering kiss on her cheek. "How are you?"

"I'm well," Arizona answered, taking a seat across from Callie. "How are you?"

"I'm also well," the Latina replied, one of her heart stopping smile tugging at her lips.

"Oh!" Arizona exclaimed, placing a hand over her date's. "The French toast you made this morning was to die for," the blonde said, a shiver running down her spine at the memory of the delicious flavors. "Thank you."

"You're welcome."

Their dinner went perfectly. The food was to die for and the conversation never waned. Callie couldn't help but think that this night was their night. The way Arizona had been looking at her the entire night did nothing to quell the lustful fire flowing through the Latina. Her blue eyes were filled with suggestion with each bite of food the blonde took from her fork. It was pure torture for Callie.

After paying the bill, the brunette laced her fingers through Arizona's, leading her out to the curb. She hailed a cab, holding the door open for the blonde as she climbed in first. Callie tried to relax against the seat of the car, but she immediately tensed when she felt Arizona's fingers drawing patterns just above her knee. The Latina glared at her date, who just giggled and nuzzled herself into Callie's body. Now in conjunction with the teasing being done by her fingers, Arizona began to lightly nip at the soft flesh of Callie's neck. The brunette swallowed hard, using every ounce of resolve not to pin Arizona on her back and take her in the cab.

After what seemed like eternity, the cab pulled up to Arizona's building. The blonde tilted her head up to Callie's ear. "Come up with me," she whispered.

The warm air of Arizona's voice tickled her skin. Not needing to be told twice, Callie followed her out of the car. She fidgeted the entire way to the door of Arizona's apartment, but she was thankful she didn't have to climb up the fire escape this time.

Once safely inside the safety of her apartment, Arizona pinned Callie against the door, and captured her lips in a frantic kiss. Their bodies molded together as the blonde slid her hips against Callie's. Upon feeling Arizona's tongue slid against her own, the brunette let out a blissful moan. Her hands freely roamed the blonde's body, cupping the soft flesh of her buttocks, and pulling her closer.

Arizona began to walk backwards towards her room, her lips still attached to the brunette's. She smiled as she felt Callie slide the hem of her dress up her body. Breaking the kiss, Arizona stepped back to allow the Latina to free her of her clothing confines. Callie's eyes widened as she realized Arizona was naked underneath the dress the entire night. Her pale skin glowed in the moonlight and Callie knew she'd never seen anything so beautiful.

Stepping forward, Arizona stripped Callie of her own clothing before pressing their nude bodies together for the first time. This, them together like this, felt so undeniably right. In this moment, as they fell together on the bed in a tangle of limbs and naked flesh, no one could tell them they were wrong. Neither woman had ever felt anything as pure as the love pouring out of them tonight. They hadn't vocalized it, but it wasn't necessary. With each touch, each caress, their love was evident. It needed no words. Allowing their feelings to wash over them, Callie and Arizona fell over the edge together in a passionate, love filled embrace.

***  
Outside, on the balcony, Mark felt sick to his stomach. He leaned against the wall of Arizona's apartment, able to hear the pleasure filled moans coming from inside the room. His fists clenched and his anger boiled. How could Callie betray her family like this? How could she betray him? Deciding he'd heard more than enough, Mark made his way back down the fire escape, vowing to make the Robbins family pay for crossing the line like this.

He hopped off the last ladder, his shoes crunching against the asphalt. He heard dripping around him. Looking up, he felt a splash of pain hit him right between the eyes. Cursing, he took a few more steps, so he was out of the way. He wiped the paint off of his head, rubbing the red substance between his fingers.

"What are you doing here Sloan?" The familiar voice of Timothy Robbins hissed as he stepped out from the shadows.

"Just checking up on your whore of a sister," Mark replied snidely. "She should get better security you know. I was standing five feet from her as I heard her moan over and over."

"You son of a bitch!" Timothy yelled, charging Mark. The older man braced himself and pushed Timothy to the ground, the imprint of his paint soaked fingers lingering on the youngest Robbins' sweater.

"Tell your sister to stay away from Callie, or there will be hell to pay," Mark said, stepping over Timothy's body.

Timothy swept his leg across the ground, knocking Mark onto his back. They both sprung up quickly, drawing their guns. "Arizona would never go near Torres filth."

"Believe what you want, Robbins, but your sister is a whore, just like your mother was," Mark spat.

Timothy snapped, pulling the trigger on his gun. The bullet sprung from the barrel towards Mark. It grazed his right arm, slicing against the flesh, and causing him to drop his own gun. Timothy kicked it towards another building before backing up into the shadows. "That was just a warning shot, Sloan," he whispered as he disappeared. "Next time, you won't be so lucky."

Grimacing, Mark stood up and put pressure on the wound. He walked over to the brick building behind him, grabbed his gun, and put it back in its holster. After tearing off the bottom portion of his shirt, he wrapped it around his arm, tying it tight. The sun was beginning to rise, and with one last look up at the balcony, he disappeared into the morning light.


	5. I Loved You First

A/N: I meant to have this up on Sunday, but it just didn't happen. I had some massive block, but managed to write through it, so hopefully this turned out well. Thank you to everyone who reviews and also to those who read. You guys are awesome! Also, thank you to Skones and Ali.

Happy Reading,

~KB~

* * *

Chapter 5: I Loved You First

The early morning sunlight washed over Callie's body as she laid in bed, her body still wrapped around Arizona's. She resisted the urge to stretch, for fear of waking the blonde. She didn't think she could ever be happier than she was in this moment. Last night had been perfect, exactly what Callie had imagined for the last month. The feeling of being in Arizona's arms completely intoxicated the Latina. She really didn't want to move today and instead just stay in bed. In fact, that proposition sounded better and better the longer she laid there, still nestled under the covers.

Callie sighed happily, leaning down to kiss Arizona gently on the forehead and stroke her blonde locks. She stirred at the touch, turning over to bury herself further into the brunette's warm body. The Latina chuckled and pulled the covers tighter around them. As beautiful and sexy as Arizona was, at times her juvenile cuteness overpowered everything, making the Latina's heart melt. Callie blamed the dimples. Those damn dimples were the cutest thing the brunette had ever seen.

_Callie climbed over the railing to Arizona's balcony as had become their custom. It started the night the Latina first journeyed up the fire escape, and became something of a tradition soon after. Knocking twice on the glass of the door, Callie waited patiently for the blonde to come and let her in. She tapped her foot, her patience wearing thin as she heard Arizona move through the apartment at what seemed to be a snail's pace. _

_Finally, the blonde slid open the door, stepping out onto the balcony, and wrapped her arms around Callie's waist. The Latina returned the hug, her nose buried deep in Arizona's blonde curls. "Hey," she murmured, continuing to embrace the smaller woman. _

_Arizona pulled back slightly, tilting her head so her eyes locked with Callie's. "Hey yourself."_

_The chilly evening air sent a shiver flashed down Callie's spine."It's a little cold tonight."_

"_Is that your way of trying to get an invitation inside?" the blonde quipped, raising her eyebrows playfully. _

"_I was unaware I needed an invitation to enter my girlfriend's home," Callie returned._

_Arizona opened her mouth to respond, but instead pulled the brunette through the door. Her fingers laced through Callie's, the blonde led them towards the open area at the front of the apartment, which served as the kitchen, dining, and living spaces. "Do you want something to eat?"_

_Callie shook her head. "No, I'm fine, thanks though," the Latina responded, her eyes sweeping across the room. She'd been in the apartment a few times before, but it still surprised her. She expected some sort of Easter egg looking thing, with baby blue everywhere, but in reality, the walls were painted a nice shade of green. It wasn't lime green or anything else obnoxious, but a slightly darker and warmer shade of green. The furniture played off of that theme; there wasn't any blue in sight. _

"_Is there a reason you're looking around my apartment as if you're in the Taj Mahal?" Arizona asked as she poured both of them a glass of wine. _

"_Ha no," the brunette chuckled, "This place just isn't exactly what I'd expected. There isn't any blue…anywhere."_

"_Ah, I see," Arizona replied as she sipped on her glass of chardonnay. "Well, I'm sorry to disappoint."_

_Taken aback by the blonde's reply, Callie closed the space between them, and grabbed her hand. "Hey," she said softly, trying to catch the blonde's attention. "What's wrong? What was that all about?"_

"_I'm sorry," Arizona replied with a shake of her head. "I'm just a little pissed about what happened at the park today."_

_The Latina smirked. "You mean that coffee cart girl flirting with me? You didn't seem to mind this morning, and I threw away the cup with the number anyway."_

"_I didn't know I was allowed to mind!" Arizona responded, nearly shouting."We've never really talked about what we are, we don't exactly have a definition, I mean it's been less than a month. But then, tonight you called me your girlfriend. So I need to know, am I your girlfriend?"_

_Callie couldn't stop the magnificent smile spreading across her lips if she wanted to. "Yeah!"_

"_Oh," the blonde said, furrowing her brow before looking back to Callie with a slow smile that put her dimples on full display, "ok."_

God she loved those dimples. Everything about the blonde simply intoxicated her. She wasn't stupid; she knew they were risking everything to be together. If she wasn't completely sure about how she felt, there was no way in hell she would have ever called the blonde. Maybe it was her boldness in the bathroom, or the playful lilt to her voice when they spoke on the phone, but whatever it was, she had Callie wrapped around her finger.

Some used the term whipped as if it were the worst thing in the world. In Callie's mind, however, being completely smitten was not a bad thing. Waking up this morning in Arizona's arms was the absolute best feeling for which she could ever hope. All she wanted was to make her happy. If that meant she was whipped, then so be it. The feelings Callie felt for Arizona were the most real and genuine feelings she'd felt in quite awhile, she knew that from nearly the beginning.

_Callie stood on the third floor of Borders, shifting her weight from side to side nervously as she pretended to inspect a magazine. Arizona was meeting her here in just a few moments, something they agreed upon the previous night. Their first date had been absolutely amazing, but now the brunette was definitely nervous. She swallowed hard as the blonde curls began to appear over the railing, signaling Arizona was coming up the escalator. _

_The blonde turned to face Callie, a warm smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "Hey you," she said gently, "I've been looking everywhere for you."_

"_Sorry," the Latina replied, pulling Arizona into a tender embrace. "I was hiding. The first floor is just so open, and I didn't want to be seen."_

"_That's ok," the blonde said as she rose onto her toes to drop a kiss on Callie's cheek. "I completely understand."_

"_So," Callie began nervously, stepping out of their embrace, "did you want to get something from the café? I know it's lame, but…"_

"_Actually," Arizona interrupted, reclaiming the brunette's hand, "I sort of made plans."_

_Callie arched her eyebrows in surprise. "You did?"_

"_I did," Arizona replied, nodding her head and smiling. _

"_Well ok then," the brunette said. "Lead the way."_

Arizona sighed into the Latina's arms as she gently stroked the blonde's back. Callie smiled, leaning down, and pressing her lips against Arizona's neck. When the blonde didn't move, Callie began to nip at her flesh in earnest, moving to her ear, and sucking her earlobe gently between her lips and teeth. "Mmm," Arizona finally murmured, awakening, "I vote you wake me up like that every morning."

Callie giggled into the blonde's shoulder. "I will if you'll have me."

"Good morning," Arizona said in a voice so soft it was almost a whisper, pressing her lips fully against Callie's.

"It is a good morning," the brunette agreed. "When do you need to leave for work?"

"In a half hour," the blonde replied as she stretched her body on the bed. "I should shower."

Callie's eyes surveyed her girlfriend's stretched torso, swallowing hard at the sight of her flesh. She exercised every ounce of self-control she had not to press her body against the blonde's and recapture the magic they shared last night. If it wasn't for the fact they both had work soon, she would not leave this bed at all today except for food, but even that was a maybe. Reluctantly, the brunette pulled herself out of bed, forcing her eyes away from the captivating woman still occupying it. "You go shower, and I'll make you some eggs real quick, before we have to leave."

"OK, that sounds great," the blonde responded as she swung her legs over the edge of the bed. "I'll be quick."

"You better, because I also need a shower," the Latina replied, exiting the bedroom and entering the kitchen. She smiled as she heard the water turn on in the bathroom adjacent to Arizona's bedroom. She took out the items she needed from the blonde's cupboards. Callie had become accustomed to the layout of the blonde's apartment, since they spent almost all their time here. Arizona lived alone and her father gave her a surprising amount of freedom. Callie, however, lived with a roommate, and while they got along well enough, she didn't want to expose Cristina to more craziness than necessary.

_Callie and Arizona stumbled through the door to the brunette's apartment. They'd had their third date tonight, both of them knowing the implications of the number. The Latina's heart pounded in her ears all night at the prospect of what awaited at the conclusion. She had not been disappointed thus far; the taste of the blonde's lips upon her own had been tantalizing to say the least. _

_The Latina pushed Arizona towards the couch, her lips still sliding over the blonde's. Callie ripped her lips away, and began to kiss down the milky flesh of Arizona's neck as they fell onto the couch. The blonde wantonly spread her legs underneath Callie, her dress riding up her thighs. They ground hungrily against each other, each touch sending them further out of control. Callie realized things were escalating quickly and grinding on the couch like a horny teenager wasn't helping._

"_Oh my God!" A voice yelled from the door. _

_The sudden noise caused Arizona to throw the brunette from her body and off the couch. Callie landed on the floor with a thud. She cursed and looked up at the blonde who adjusted her dress as a deep blush rose colored her cheeks. The Latina pushed her body from the floor, standing to face the person who barged into the room. "Cristina," she said, trying to keep her composure, "hi."_

"_I'm just going to um, go to my room," Cristina said awkwardly as she walked by the now very embarrassed couple. _

_Callie suppressed a giggle as she heard Cristina mutter something about dirty lesbian sex and buying a new couch. Her roommate wasn't a homophobe by any means; she was just a bit abrasive. The Latina looked over at Arizona. She sat up on the couch with her hands over her face, but Callie could just see the faintest hint of her blush peeking out from her fingers. "Hey," she said sitting down next to the blonde, "I'm sorry about that. How about I walk you home?"_

"_Yeah, that sounds good."_

"_You know, I'm not that upset about Cristina walking in," Callie commented. She looked to the blonde who was staring at Callie like she was nuts. "Oh no," the brunette rushed, picking up on her mistake, "not because I don't want to. I obviously want to. I just don't want our first time to be on the couch in my apartment and all quick and dirty. I like quick and dirty, and we will do quick and dirty, just not night one."_

_Arizona laughed, looping her arm through the Latina's as they left Callie's apartment. "You're very sweet; even if that was the most inarticulate thing you've ever said."_

_Callie didn't answer, instead she merely buried her nose in Arizona's curls, kissing the top of her head as they walked down the hall to the elevator. _

Arizona's apartment had definitely been more kind to them, Callie mused, putting the eggs onto a plate for her girlfriend. She heard the water stop running, so she snuck a quick bite of eggs before going back into the bedroom. The blonde toweled off in the middle of the room, the droplets of water still glistening on her skin. She looked up, her eyes locking with Callie's. "Hey, you're phone was going off a couple of minutes ago. Obviously, I didn't answer, but it went off a couple of times."

"Thanks," Callie answered, walking over to her phone. "Oh, I put your eggs on a plate for you. It's on the counter next to your coffee."

"You're seriously my hero," the blonde replied with a grateful sigh. She became concerned however, when she saw a shadow pass over Callie's face. "What's wrong?"

"I have to go," she said abruptly before crossing the room and dropping a nearly emotionless kiss on the blonde's cheek. "I'll call you later."

"Ok, bye." Arizona called after her quickly retreating girlfriend. She was completely confused as to what just transpired. She knew something huge must have just happened because Callie was never cold to her. Even when she had a terrible day, she always summoned warmth when they spent time together. Watching her shut down like that was very disconcerting.

Because of the nature of their relationship, she feared the worst. Although, she was pretty unsure of what that could be. She didn't really think that anyone's life was in danger. She knew that Callie's family especially was engaged in violent dealings, but her father wasn't like that at all, so she doubted it could ever get to that point. That didn't mean she wasn't worried about what would happen if their families ever found out; she just didn't think that the city would explode because of it.

A satisfied moan escaped her lips as she swallowed a bite of the eggs Callie cooked for her. Callie was such a great cook. Arizona couldn't cook to save her life, and since they spent so much time inside, she figured it was good that one of them was able to. Sometimes she resented the fact that they couldn't go out all the time, and when they did, they had to be careful. When she truly thought about it, however, the home cooked meals and conversations created an intimate atmosphere around their relationship that may not have existed otherwise.

"_Oh my gosh, Calliope," Arizona commented appreciatively, "this chicken is to die for."_

"_I'm glad you like it," Callie replied as she sat down at the table across from Arizona._

"_So where'd you go to college?" Arizona asked, taking another bite of chicken._

_Swallowing her own food before answering, Callie replied, "Rollins College in Florida. You went to the University of Chicago, right?"_

_Arizona nodded with a smile on her face. She mentioned that tidbit in passing at one point, and yet Callie remembered. "That's right. I majored in biology and English, and also got my teaching certification, obviously. I know you do a lot of accounting stuff with your father's company, did you do that sort of stuff in college as well?"_

"_Mhm," the brunette responded. This was only their second official date, not counting the Borders surprise yesterday morning, so they were still getting to know each other. Yes, they'd talked during their first couple of meetings, but most of those conversations had been about deeper things like religion. It was funny because this morning on the phone, Arizona joked that she knew about Callie's beliefs on God, but not her birthday. "I did a 3/2 program there, getting a degree in accounting and then my MBA."_

"_I knew you were smart," Arizona quipped. _

_Callie laughed. "I suppose that is the truth."_

_Finishing off their plates, the two women stared into each other's eyes, just happy they had this moment to themselves. Inside these walls, they could let all of theirs down. They could just exist with one another and nothing else mattered. Callie took the blonde's hand in her own, pressing her lips against the knuckles in a sweet kiss. "How about desert?"_

"_What did you have in mind?" Arizona asked playfully, trying not to let her mind wander too far into the gutter. _

"_I was thinking you could help me bake some cookies and then we could watch a movie."_

"_That sounds amazing."_

Arizona sighed as she continued to get ready for her day. She tried not to let Callie's abrupt departure bother her. She glanced at the clock, realizing she only had five minutes before she had to leave. Pushing thoughts of the weird exit by her girlfriend this morning from her mind, the blonde quickly gathered her things, and exited her apartment.

Riding the elevator seemed to take longer than usual, and it gave the blonde an unsettling feeling in her stomach. The opening of the elevator doors confirmed her suspicion. Timothy stood in the lobby for the second day in a row, clearly waiting for her. Arizona narrowed her eyes angrily, not at all happy to see her brother this morning. His appearance along with Callie's sudden departure did not bode well for the rest of her day. "What do you want?"

"We need to talk, so I'm driving you to school."

Arizona seethed at her brother's attitude. She was quickly growing tired of both Timothy and her father treating her like a child. "I'm not twelve, Timothy, so back off. I can take the metro like I do every day."

The younger Robbins grabbed his sister's arm as she tried to walk away. "Not today," he said angrily, his green eyes blazing. "You're riding with me Arizona. You have a problem, then you can take it up with Dad, but today you're going to have to suck it up or be late."

"Fine," the blonde grumbled, following Timothy out of the building. She opened the car door before sitting in the passenger seat. No matter how many times she was forced to ride in Timothy's car, she would always hate it. They'd always been close, she and her brother, but over the past year, he had changed so much. "So what is this about, Tim?"

Timothy sighed, deciding not to beat around the bush. "What are you doing sleeping with Callie Torres?"

Arizona nearly choked. How the hell Timothy found out about them was beyond her, but at this point she really just didn't care. "With whom I spend my time is none of your concern, Timothy."

"It is when I find Mark Sloan outside your apartment, telling me how loud my sister moans," the younger Robbins fired back. "We don't associate with them for a reason, Arizona."

"You and Dad need to get over yourselves," the blonde spat. "If you honestly think that by showing up to my building and bullying me that you're going to stop me from seeing Calliope, then you're insane."

Timothy's face grew somber, his green eyes darkening with sadness. "You have to stop seeing her."

"Or what, Tim? I'll be grounded. Please," she said getting out of the car, "leave me alone. I can take care of myself."

Timothy flinched as the door slammed. She seemed to be doing that a lot to him lately, and it did not do anything to help their family dynamic. Some days he wished things were different between them, but he knew that was unrealistic. Nothing could ever be the same, especially after last night, and that was just something he had to deal with.

"_Timothy Daniel Robbins, Suma Cum Laude," The Dean of Students' voice rang out over the crowd gathered for the University of Chicago's graduation. Timothy walked towards the podium to receive his college diploma. He turned back towards the crowd, a smile breaking onto his face at the sight of his sister standing and clapping. _

_He loved that she was so proud of him. Timothy always cared about his father's opinion, but he'd always looked up to Arizona. Their mom died when they were young, Timothy was only six, but Arizona was always the symbol of toughness. At nine years old, she took care of him and helped raise him when their father wasn't home, which was often. He wasn't particularly absent, but he was a single father running a business, he simply couldn't be everywhere at once. _

_Arizona taught Timothy how to cook spaghetti, she helped him with his Spanish homework, and she pushed him to be the best he student he could be. It was because of her that he graduated today from one of the most prestigious colleges in the country at the young age of twenty. Standing there in front of him, her dazzling smile reaching her sparkling eyes, Timothy knew she was truly proud. He'd never felt so happy. _

Sighing, Timothy put the car back into gear, speeding back down the road. He originally planned to go to his father's office, but he had a better plan. He didn't want to break the Colonel's heart so early in the morning, so he decided to go see Mark instead. As much as it pained him to be in the same room with such an asshole, it was going to take more than strong words to deter his sister from being with the Torres woman. It was not something he understood, but then again, he understood almost nothing about his sister these days. He'd hardened as he grew older, while she apparently still floated in a rainbow filled bubble. He didn't know if she was just courageous and brave, or really naïve. If he was honest, however, his money was on the latter.

Timothy abandoned his naiveté a long time ago. Fighting for his academic life in one of the toughest business degree programs in the country had stripped him of the innocence he'd held onto with his young age. By the time he returned to Chicago, he trusted no one, least of all the Torres family. That feeling was reinforced when he first talked to his father.

"_Welcome home, Tim," the Colonel said, wrapping his strong arms around his son. "Sit down," he said gesturing towards the empty chair in front of his desk. _

_Timothy nodded and took a seat in the chair. "Thank you, Sir. I'm glad to be back."_

"_I want you to know something, Timothy," the Colonel began, catching his son's attention with the use of his full name. "I'm not going to be here forever, and as we discussed this past year you will be trained to be my successor of the Robbins Family Trust. Because of that, all of my secrets now become yours. Anything you want to know, just ask and I will give you the most honest answer possible. Starting now."_

_Timothy sat in the chair quietly for a few moments before speaking quietly, "How did mom die? You never told us how, just that she died."_

_Daniel sighed audibly, the dread he'd been feeling etched on his face. "It was my first big job. Your mother had always been crafty and supportive, so of course she came along with me. We had a crew of six, three couples: your mother and I, Jim and Kathy Sloan, and Carlos and Lena Torres."_

"_You worked with Torres and the Sloans?" Timothy blurted in surprise, sitting up in his chair._

_The Colonel nodded. "I knew them through some people. I needed to make a name for myself and Carlos was already pretty influential in the city. I wanted to move on a cell of Hells Angels passing through rural Illinois. They had a warehouse where they hung out located just outside Bloomington. I needed Carlos because he had the connections to get the intel I wanted. He brought along the Sloans."_

"_Ok, so what happened?"_

"_Well we sent in the women as groupies, you know to get closer to the bikers, as well as distract them. There was a significant amount of money and a weapons stockpile in the back in a vault like contraption. Carlos, Jim, and I entered the warehouse through the back, and headed straight for the vault. Jim was a safe cracker, as am I, but Carlos decided that Jim would be the one cracking the safe. As he worked on it, Carlos and I stood guard and kept an eye on the door and the girls. Jim, however, was taking forever, and the Angels were beginning to move in on the girls in the warehouse, including our wives." The Colonel paused and took a deep breath. Once Jim finally opened the safe, he and I siphoned out all the money and weapons into bags while Carlos signaled to the girls to get out. He didn't signal your mother," Daniel said solemnly. _

"_So she was still in there," Timothy finished. _

"_Yes, she was. Once I realized she was still in there, I bolted for the door. Carlos, however, stopped me and told me he'd already activated the C-4. That wasn't part of the deal, but he insisted that if we left anyone alive, they'd never stop hunting us. If he hadn't stopped me, I might have been able to get there in time, but he and Jim held me back and I was powerless as the warehouse exploded. The only thing I have left is the diamond from her engagement ring, which somehow survived the blast."_

_Timothy got up from the chair, approaching his father's sprawling desk. His father grabbed his hand and placed the diamond into his palm. Timothy felt his hand grow heavier and heavier. It felt like he held the weight of the world there. His body shook with rage as he thought about what his father just finished telling him. The Torres family would pay if he had anything to say about it. His eyes closed tightly to hold back the tears, as his father closed Timothy's hands, giving him the only remaining piece of his mother._

Timothy stroked the diamond stud in his earlobe subconsciously as he climbed out of his car. Looking around to make sure he wasn't going to be seen, he descended the steps into Baila. He'd never been in here before, or on any portion of purely Torres turf for that matter. He hoped his obvious sacrifice would spare Mark from shooting him on the spot. But just in case he removed his gun from his hip holster, flicking off the safety as he approached Mark's office. He knocked on the wooden door with the butt of his gun.

"Come in," Mark's voice said from inside the room.

"Sloan," Timothy said, opening the door. "How's the arm?"

At the sound of the youngest Robbins' voice, Mark whirled around. "What do you want, Robbins?"

Making sure Mark could see his gun, Timothy collapsed in a chair. "Relax. I'm here for a friendly visit."

"There's no such thing with your family," the older man spat.

"Look, I don't Arizona around Callie any more than you do. All I'm here for is to make sure we have some sort of mutual agreement."

Mark smiled slyly. "And exactly how do you propose we go about enforcing this situation.

"Honestly," Timothy said with a shrug, "I don't care. I'll deal with my sister, and you deal with Callie. As long as they aren't together, I really don't care."

"Fine," Mark agreed, his blue eyes sparking with suppressed anger. "You can see yourself out."

"What is this?" another voice asked from the doorway.

"Nothing _Calliope,_" Timothy sneered at the intruding brunette. "I was just leaving."

The Latina's eyes followed Timothy as he left the room. Once he was safely out of sight, she turned back to ark. "Dude, what the hell was that I got your text a little bit ago. Did you really get shot last night?"

Mark nodded, pointing to his arm which was supported by a sling. "Yeah, Timothy and I got into a fight last night. I'm fine though. It just grazed the skin."

"Wait," Callie said, confused. "He was just here."

"Yeah," Mark replied warily, "He just wanted to apologize."

"Right, I don't believe you," the Latina said. "What do you want anyway?"

"Look, Cal, you need to stay away from the Robbins girl. And before you try and object, I know about you two Callie."

The brunette frowned angrily. "Who I date is my business Mark."

"There's something you don't know, Callie, about the Robbins family."

"What could I possibly not know that you do?"

"Callie," Mark said slowly, "The Colonel is responsible for the death of your mother and my parents."


	6. The Center Cannot Hold

A/N: So I just want to say that I'm sorry this took so long, but here is the next chapter. Thanks to Ali and Skones.

Happy Reading,

~KB~

* * *

Chapter 6: The Center Cannot Hold

The sunlight blazed across the horizon as the red sun rose towards the sky. Behind his black marble desk, Carlos stared out the window at the city below him. His eyes sparked with the red light reflecting off the buildings. Bright skies always made him nervous. They never led to anything good. He much preferred to shroud himself in the cloak of darkness. It was comforting to him. He didn't do well with light; it always forced him to squint eyes, making him feel like he was shrinking away. The dark welcomed his wide eyed gaze, allowing him to see far beyond what sailing through life on curved light could.

Carlos had gone through life refusing to believe the hogwash that was the notion that humans were inherently good. That he, as a man, was perfectly capable of living a saintly life free from violence, money, and corruption. Daniel, or Danny as he once knew him, became blinded long ago by that idea. For some reason, the ex-marine allowed himself to drown in the idea that was his own moral superiority. That irked Carlos the most about him. Of everything that had happened between them over the past decade, it was absurd for Daniel to still live in his white clouds.

Standing and walking to the window, the Torres patriarch thought of his regrets. What started this feud between he and Daniel was nothing more than an accident. For the ex-marine to think Carlos didn't carry Kate's death with him every day was the gravest error Daniel ever could have made. Then, to exact his revenge a year later by attempting to kill them all with hit men was just cowardly. Carlos seethed at the memory.

Papa T, the affectionate name given to him by the various people associated with his company, was born the night his wife died. He'd inherited a large amount of money from his father, who died when Carlos was in his early thirties. His father, Miguel, made his money banking in the twenties, but he also participated in the illegal alcohol smuggling and trafficking during the era. Prohibition did nothing to curtail the alcohol consumption of Americans; rather it provided men like his father an opportunity to make extra money. Miguel Torres reinvested his money in his banking enterprise, prospering widely in the thirties. When the stock crashed in 1929, however, it left many destitute, but the Torres family survived with their wealth intact.

The legacy handed to Carlos from Miguel was to do whatever it takes. By the time of his death, Miguel owned most of the city's politicians. He was the most influential man in Chicago. It was with this legacy in mind, that Carlos agreed to help Daniel in vanquishing a cell of Hell's Angels. The biker gang wreaked havoc outside of the city, but their influence was enough in the surrounding areas that it made the Torres family a bit nervous. Daniel had pulled a couple of impressive jobs, most of which involved cracking safes at low security banks and robbing jewelry stores. Carlos knew Daniel from the firing range they both frequented. He was ex-military, pissed at the world, and looking to get ahead. An ambitious man himself, Carlos offered his services.

What happened that night, however, was something Carlos would always regret. It was a simple miscommunication, one for which they all paid dearly. Despite Daniel's claims, he did indeed signal Kate to get out of the warehouse. They made eye contact, and Carlos figured she would be heading out, but for some reason that never happened. He set the C4 charges before bolting out of the building. What happened next was just awful. Carlos had to hold the ex-marine back, along with Jim, and watch as the building exploded with Daniel's wife inside.

After the events at the warehouse, Daniel had been rightfully upset, but Carlos thought he'd understood it to be an accident. In the months that followed, however, Robbins made it perfectly clear he blamed Carlos for the death of his wife. They continued to work together on occasion, but Daniel continued to become less and less reliable and more independent, not caring about the other members of the group. His brazen disregard for others reached its peak when he basically locked Carlos in a burning room on a job.

Something in Daniel snapped during those months, the Torres boss decided long ago. He became a shadow of the man he'd met a year prior, and yet the ex-marine worked to reinvent himself as a modern day Robin Hood. The night Lena, Jim, and Kathy were killed, the four of them went out to dinner to celebrate Jim's election as a state representative. Of course, Carlos used some of the money to facilitate the feat, but that made it no less of an important accomplishment for them. On the way home, their car was rammed on Lake Shore Drive by a black SUV and pinned by another. . Men wearing teal blue ski masks and white jackets exited the vehicle, brandishing automatic weapons. Open firing on the car, they approached the sedan with their fingers still pressed against the triggers. Carlos watched as his wife slumped against the door, blood seeping from a newly torn hole in her chest. Before he'd had a chance to even process what happened, he propelled himself from the back seat of the car, and crawled across the pavement. As he sprinted down the street, he turned just in time to see the masked men set the cars ablaze.

That was the worst memory Carlos had, and all it did was solidify his hatred of Daniel Robbins and everything that man stood for. He cowered behind the pearly gates of the temple building, allowing others to do his dirty work for him. He played up his image as the white knight of Chicago while he secretly dipped into the blood diamond trade overseas. He pretended to be the all giving savior of the people while funding their projects with stolen money. He fashioned himself as the Gabriel to Carlos' Lucifer, but he was no better than Brutus. A person's moral fiber was not something that particularly interested Carlos; he was ruthless, but he was honest.

Carlos raised his head towards the elevator as he heard the doors ding open. Out stepped Mark, the closest thing to a son he'd ever have, with his arm in a sling. Mark's injured status alarmed the Latino boss. It did not bode well for the situation outside of this tower when his enforcer came back noticeably frazzled. "Mark," he said, addressing the taller man as he tried to keep his voice even, "what happened?"

Mark gritted his teeth and clenched his jaw. He still seethed at the thought of Timothy Robbins. "The Colonel's mini-me shot me last night."

"What?" Carlos' voice boomed through the empty office. He couldn't believe this was happening. That wasn't true; he could believe it was happening, especially after that confrontation at the docks last month. That, however, did not mean that he had been expecting his right hand man to come into his office with a bullet hole in his arm. "What the hell happened?"

"You're going to need to sit down for this Carlos," Mark replied solemnly, his voice taking on a grave tone. He had no idea how Carlos would react to the information he'd collected over the last day. In just a few hours, so much had changed, causing Mark to steel himself and prepare for what was to come. "I tailed Callie like you asked last night."

"And?" The older man asked impatiently.  
"She ended up on Indiana Ave," Mark trailed off, leaving his words hanging in the increasingly tense air.

Carlos raised his eyebrows. "Isn't that where…?"

"Yes," Mark interrupted, nodding his head. "Arizona Robbins lives there."

"Calliope would never!" Carlos shouted, standing from his chair. "She knows how dangerous it would be, not to mention foolish. No," he decided, "Calliope would never do that."

"Sir," Mark said cautiously, "I know for a fact that Callie is dating Arizona Robbins. They met last month at the benefit of theirs we crashed. Timothy was apparently checking up on his sister because I saw him in the back alley, where we fought. Don't worry about me, though, Papa T. The bullet only grazed my skin; I'm fine."

"I never worry about you, Mark," Carlos replied honestly, "though you do seem to have a little bit of blood on your forehead."

Mark licked his fingers before rubbing at the smooth patch of skin. "It's just paint. Someone just repainted a windowsill or something. I was walking last night, and a drop fell on me. It's no big deal."

"Robbins is a slimy bastard," Carlos remarked harshly, returning to their previous conversation. "I want you to put out a hit on Timothy." Mark nodded in understanding, signaling for Carlos to continue. "I don't want him dead, just roughed up, a lot. He crossed the line when he shot you, and the Colonel needs to be sent a message."

"Ok," Mark replied. He couldn't have been in more agreement with Carlos on this point. "I'll tell Karev and Avery." He turned back towards the elevator. After slipping through the steel doors, he nodded towards Carlos in a silent acknowledgement of his wishes. He clenched and flexed the hand of his uninjured arm as the elevator quickly descended the floors of the towering building. He pushed open the door leading out to the street, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jacket.

The summer neared in the city, and Mark was grateful. He preferred warmth to cold, especially on days such as this when depression seemed like the only emotion lingering in the air. The warmth washed over him, reminding Mark that he at least had the beach to look forward to later. He hated Timothy Robbins and the entire Robbins family with a burning passion, but delivering these orders only served to show just how dangerous things were rapidly becoming. Of course, his own gunshot wound should have been proof enough. These were uncharted waters for him. There had been tension ever since he could remember, but over the past year, it reached an entirely different level, one which he would be willing to bet hadn't existed since the very start of the conflict.

Mark slid into his black Lamborghini that was waiting for him on the curb. Driving in this machine never failed to bring at least a half smile to his lips. He wasn't expecting to have such a long morning, but at least it was keeping him busy. He wasn't supposed to move his arm until tomorrow at the earliest, which was inconvenient to say the least. It didn't even hurt too badly, but Stan, the family doctor, insisted Mark keep it in the sling for today.

Speeding through the streets towards Baila, Mark couldn't help but feel a sense of foreboding. Maybe it was actually feeling a bullet pierce his skin, but he suddenly didn't feel nearly as untouchable as he did before. Even when the barrel of Timothy's gun pressed against his temple at the docks last month, Mark never thought Timothy would actually pull the trigger. After staring into his steely green eyes last night, however, Mark was now absolutely certain that the youngest Robbins would not hesitate ever again. That realization completely stripped him of any security he previously had.

He pulled into his designated parking spot in front of Baila. Karev and Avery leaned against the railings of the stairs, presumably waiting for him. He'd called them over this morning anyway after Callie left. The fact that Carlos wanted him to talk to them just made his day a little bit easier.

A little bit.

"Karev! Avery!" Mark called over to them as he approached the stairs leading down to the club. "Come in, I need to talk to you two," he said as he sliced between them to the heavy door to the club. He led the two men to his office at the back of the empty space. Motioning for them to sit down in the plush leather chairs, Mark took a seat behind his own black marble desk. He placed his hands on the cool surface, contemplating the direction he was about to give his two employees. The desk was a gift from Carlos after Mark officially became his second in command and manager of the nightclub enterprises owned by the commanding Torres. "Carlos has placed a target on Timothy Robbins."

Avery perked up in his chair at the declaration from his boss. "What kind of target?"

A tight smirk stretched over Mark's lips. "Try not to kill him, but don't hold back."

"Thank you," Karev breathed, shaking his fists in appreciation. "We'll round up the gang."

Avery and Karev stood up from their seats and walked towards the door. Each nodding their heads towards Mark, they exited the office together. Upon their exit, Mark relaxed against his chair, and ran his fingers through his short cropped hair. Closing his eyes, he exhaled in a silent prayer that everything would work out.

"Heya stranger," a voice said from the doorway.

Mark peeked open his eyes slightly, his mind registering a splash of red. "Hi Addison," he said glumly, not sure whether or not he wanted to deal with her this morning.

"What happened to you?" the redhead asked suddenly, emotion lacing her voice upon seeing Mark's arm in a sling as she approached his desk. "Why is your arm in a sling?"

Mark spun in his chair, put his feet on the floor, and stood up to face Addison. "Timothy and I got into a fight last night and he shot me in the arm after I called his mother a whore."

Tears sprang into Addison's eyes. She couldn't believe this was happening. "I can't believe you're being so nonchalant about this," she said, furiously brushing the tears from her eyes. "You were shot."

Mark's heart broke at the sight of the redhead's distress. He closed the distance between them in a few steps before wrapping his good arm around her in a warm hug. "It only grazed the skin, just a laceration. It really isn't a big deal, Addie," he replied, using his pet name for her. "I'm surprised you care so much."

Addison sniffled and playfully swatted him on the back. "You know I care Mark," she said softly, tilting her head up towards his. "Maybe a little too much."

Mark sucked in a breath at the redhead's words. He hadn't been expecting this at all, nor did he expect his own reaction to what she said. He wanted to blame the gunshot, but he knew that wasn't the case. He'd buried his feelings for Addison since the day he met her, but in this moment he couldn't any longer. His head dipped and he pressed their lips together in a long overdue, sensuous kiss.

Addison smiled against his lips as she wound her arms around his neck. Slowly peeling her lips from Mark's, she relaxed her forehead against his. "It's about damn time, Sloan."

"Better late than never right?" he asked hopefully.

"Yeah," Addison agreed, her voice coming out in a breathy whisper. "So, where do we go from here?"

"Am I supposed to ask you to go steady?" Mark inquired.

"No," she replied, rolling her eyes. "But you could tell me what's going on?"

"Callie and Arizona Robbins are apparently sleeping together. For how long, I'm not exactly sure, but the short of it is that I ran into Timothy last night and we had a throw down in the alley. He shot me, threatened me, and then ran off. This morning, Carlos had me send Avery, Karev, and their buddies after him. He'll probably wake up in a hospital bed tomorrow," Mark finished with a smirk.

"Wow," the redhead said cautiously, "shit got real."

"Very," Mark nodded in agreement.

"Oh shit," she cursed, as she looked down at her phone. "I was supposed to meet Callie for breakfast ten minutes ago."

"You got here five minutes ago, so you were already late," Mark commented, tilting his head playfully. "What exactly was your plan?"

The redhead smirked, a mischievous glint flickering in her eyes. "I was going to seduce you and make you realize you love me."

"I blame the wound," Mark quipped. "It's made me soft."

Addison laughed as she pulled out of their embrace. "I'm going to pretend you didn't say that." She crossed the room and grabbed her things. "I'll see you later." With one last look over her shoulder, she left the room, walked back through the club, and out to her car. Slipping comfortably against the leather seats of her Mercedes, she turned the key in the ignition. She and Callie were supposed to meet at this little breakfast place downtown. This morning did not go as she originally planned. She wasn't supposed to kiss Mark in his office, hell she wasn't even supposed to go to his office. She didn't regret either of those events, however. She just hoped Callie would understand.

After parking her car, Addison ducked into the small café. She spotted Callie tucked away in the corner, sipping on her morning coffee. "Hey," the redhead said, sliding in next to her friend.

"You're late," the Latina deadpanned.

"Yeah," Addison said nervously, "I stopped by Baila."

Callie arched her eyebrows. "Oh did you?"

"," the redhead mumbled.

"A little bit?"

"Ok," Addison conceded, "A lotta bit."

"That's what I thought," the brunette said with a chuckle.

"Speaking of relationship stuff," Addison started, "I think you should really think about what it is you're doing with Arizona.

Callie stared at Addison with a dumfounded expression on her face. "Excuse me…what?"

Addison shrugged. "I just don't think it's wise for you to continue seeing her."

"Just last week you were all for it," Callie replied angrily. "You were the one who encouraged me to take a chance with her in the first place."

"That was before your best friend was shot by her brother," the redhead hissed.

"Our families' quarrels have nothing to do with us," the Latina responded. "Just because you and Mark have decided you're suddenly meant to be together does not mean you're allowed to gang up on me and try to dictate my relationship."

Addison smacked her hands down on the table in frustration. "Open your eyes, Calliope Torres. There is more at stake here than just _your _happiness."

"First of all," Callie spat, "don't call me Calliope. Secondly, what the hell are you talking about?"

The redhead sighed, unsure of what she should say. On one hand, Mark explicitly told her not to tell Callie anything, but the brunette was her best friend. Truthfully, she didn't want things to get out of control. She loathed Timothy for what he did to Mark, but the way things were screamed of danger and uncertainty. "Your father put a hit out on Timothy. Not to kill him," she added hastily, seeing her friend's reaction. "He just sent out Karev and Avery to give him a little payback." Callie quickly stood up and began to grab her things. "What are you doing?" Addison asked worriedly.

"I'm going up to Northside to warn Arizona," the brunette answered, slinging her bag over her shoulder before leaving Addison at the table and heading towards the curb.

Arizona sat behind the desk in her classroom, still reeling from the morning's events. Between Callie ducking out on her and Timothy showing up at her building for the second time in as many days, she was a bit rattled. Something was off, and it shook her. She could feel that there was something going on that people were not telling her about. As much as she wanted to believe that Callie's abrupt departure and her brother's appearance weren't related, they probably were; a fact that did nothing to settle her churning stomach.

A knock on the door drew her attention to the entryway of the room. She immediately frowned at the sight of her brother leaning against the frame. "Can't you just leave me alone Timothy?" the blonde asked dejectedly. "What are you doing here?"

"I came to finish what we were talking about earlier," Timothy replied, stepping forward. "There are things that you need to know, Arizona. Things that will make you realize the severity of this," he hesitated; his green eyes looking around, trying to find the word, "situation," Timothy decided, his voice laced with venom.

Arizona shuddered under the intensity of her brother's stare. If there was one thing she truly detested about her father and brother, it was how uncomfortable and inadequate they could make her feel with just one look. "What is this information, Tim?"

Taking a seat in one of the student chairs, Timothy folded his hands on top of the surface. "What do you know about Mom's death?"

"I don't understand why this is important, Tim," the teacher answered, her brow furrowing.

"Just answer the question," Timothy replied, his voice almost gentle.

"I don't know," Arizona said with a shrug. "I guess just that she died. Dad never told me how it happened."

"She was killed in an explosion," the younger Robbins said sadly. "She and Dad were working a job with the Torres and Sloans. Apparently Carlos was supposed to signal all the women to leave, but he didn't signal our mother. By the time Dad realized it, they were outside and Carlos had already activated the charges connected to the C4. Mom never had a chance."

"How long have you known?" Arizona asked angrily. She couldn't believe her brother and father would keep a secret like this from her. They had some serious nerve. They were keeping the entire root of this stupid feud to themselves, while trying to get her to leave Callie. They were really a piece of work. "Tell me, Tim," she demanded.

"Since I came back from Ann Arbor," Timothy replied. "Don't you see now, Arizona?" he pleaded. "Carlos Torres killed our mother and you're fucking his daughter. You're betraying the family, betraying our honor."

Arizona bore her stone cold, blue eyes into Timothy. Anger seeped from her pores. For her brother to stand in front of her and talk to her like she was beneath him was just too much. She was shocked by the information she was just given, and to add insult to injury her _baby _brother spoke to her as if she meant nothing to the family. "You need to leave Timothy. Now." She stared at him until he finally made his way back to the archway. "Tim," she said, catching his attention just before he left. "Don't ever question my honor or what I contribute to this family. Ever."

Managing only a nod, Timothy turned to walk away. He strolled back down the hallway towards the door leading to the parking lot. He momentarily hesitated as he saw Callie Torres walk through the same doors. Their eyes locked, and Timothy steeled his jaw, forging ahead after his initial pause. He brushed her shoulder as he passed before adjusting his jacket and leaving the building.

Callie turned as she felt Arizona's brother brush past her. His abrasive attitude never ceased to amaze the brunette. She was probably just being protective of Mark, but she really disliked the youngest Robbins. Of course, he was the one responsible for putting Mark in a sling, but there was something else about him. She couldn't quite put her finger on it though.

The Latina frowned as she continued down the hall. For the first time, she really felt the weight of her relationship with Arizona. There was just so much that she didn't realize about their families before, and now that she had that information, it terrified her. When Mark told her about the story of their parents' deaths, Callie had no idea how to react. Part of her wanted to grab the Colonel by the throat and crush it. Part of her wanted to scream until she cried and could scream no longer. Part of her wanted to run and never look back. Part of her also, however, just wanted to curl up in Arizona's arms and pray everything would be ok, even though she knew it wouldn't be.

Standing outside Arizona's classroom, she took a deep breath. She'd never been to Northside before, but the directory at the entrance said this was her room. A smile appeared on the brunette's face as she saw a hint of green peek out from the room. She ducked her head around the doorframe, and wrapped on the wooden surface of the door.

"Come in," Arizona said, not looking up from her desk.

"Hey," Callie said gently, approaching her girlfriend.

The blonde looked up from the papers she was grading at the sound of Callie's voice. "Calliope," she said nervously, "what are you doing here?"

"I, um, needed to talk to you," the Latina mumbled.

Arizona mentally cursed at her girlfriend's words. This day obviously was going to suck. Hell, it already did suck. Between her brother telling her the truth about her mother and Callie sitting in front of her presumably about to drop another bomb, Arizona didn't know how much more she could take. "Ok."

"I'm sorry for leaving like I did this morning. Mark texted me and told me to go over to Baila because he'd been shot last night and needed to talk to me."

Arizona gasped. "What? What happened?"

Callie looked at the floor, unsure of exactly how to phrase what she was trying to say. Honesty, however, was something she held very highly, so she decided to go with that. "He got into a fight with Timothy. Some words were said, and Timothy shot him in the arm. The bullet just grazed it, so Mark is fine."

Arizona just wanted to smack Callie across the face. By this time she was so fed up with everything having to do with this stupid feud. Her brother and father exhausted her, and now Callie was telling her that Tim shot her best friend. This day was just freaking perfect. "I can't believe you, Calliope," the blonde hissed. "You're coming in here and accusing my family of attempted murder?"

The Latina flinched at the blonde's words. She'd expected some type of resistance from her girlfriend, but this blatant anger surprised her. Of course it was just like her family to blow everything out of proportion without knowing anything. "First of all, I don't think Timothy tried to kill Mark. Secondly, what is your problem?"

"My problem is your family and this stupid argument!" Arizona shouted, her face becoming red with her returning anger. "Your father is responsible for my mother's death! And you have the audacity to come in here and accuse my brother of shooting someone."

"I'm not accusing anyone of anything," Callie spat. "I came here to warn you. I came here because despite what might be going on with our fathers, I love you enough to tell you that my father has placed a target on Timothy. I'm telling you this, so you can protect him, even though he shot my best friend," the Latina finished, her eyes welling up. "Don't lump me in with my dad; it gets us nowhere." The brunette waited for Arizona to say something, anything. "Arizona?"

"I think you should go," the blonde answered.

"Arizona…" Callie pleaded softly.

"Just go," Arizona answered, reshuffling papers on her desk.

The Latina walked towards the door, turning around once she reached the arch. "I know you're mad at me, but next time you're talking to your father, you should ask him about my mother. I think you'll be surprised." With that, Callie disappeared down the hall.

Arizona placed her head down on her desk. She couldn't believe this was happening to her. Everything she thought was real crashed down around her this morning. Suddenly, everything was in question, and the blonde literally felt sick about it. She glanced at the clock, realizing the majority of her students had non-academic subjects for the afternoon. She decided that she would go home for the afternoon because she wouldn't be missing much class, nor was she going to be useful to her students at this point.

The blonde strolled to the office to inform them of her impending departure. She told them something about a family emergency, which they bought to no surprise. Within ten minutes of gathering her stuff, Arizona sat on the metro, enjoying the lilt of the ride as she made her way home. She continued to fight off the tears threatening to stream down her cheeks. She didn't cry, and she wouldn't cry.

Looking out the window, Arizona replayed the morning's events for the umpteenth time. The one thing that stuck in her mind was Callie's declaration of love. They hadn't had that conversation yet, but today Callie told Arizona she loved her. Arizona was a little upset that it happened the way it did, but she knew Callie meant it, even if it did happen in the heat of the moment. Sighing, Arizona left the metro to walk the short distance to her building. She didn't mean for things to get out of control. Arizona knew she projected her anger towards Timothy and the situation onto Callie. She knew that wasn't fair, but at the time, she couldn't stop.

Entering the building, Arizona made her way to her apartment. She turned the key in the lock, allowing herself to enter the apartment. She walked down the small narrow hallway that led to her great room, tossing her bag onto the top of a shelf as she did so. Coming into the great room, the blonde cursed. Just when she thought the day couldn't get any worse, her father sat on her couch, running his thumb along the cover of one of her books. "What are you doing?"

The Colonel stood, his imposing frame towering over that of his daughter's. "That's something I should be asking you don't you think?"

"If you've come to make me feel guilty about Calliope, then you can save your breath," Arizona whispered harshly. Her father stood in her living room, and for the first time in her life, she couldn't feel the light behind him. He wasn't glowing, his halo was missing, and his hair looked like a dark grey. Arizona stood as tall as she possible could only a few feet from the ex-marine. "Nothing you can say will make me leave her."

"I take it Timothy didn't tell you then," Daniel remarked, pushing his hands into the pockets of his slacks.

"You mean that Carlos Torres is responsible for my mother's death?" Arizona shouted. "Of course he did."

"Then how in the world can you go on seeing her, Arizona? She is the enemy! One of them!"

"_She,_" Arizona began, drawing out the word, "is nothing of the sort. And while we're on the subject, why don't you tell me about Callie's mom?" the blonde asked on a whim. She didn't know what possessed her to ask the question, and she was beginning to regret it, but that didn't matter now.

"Did your precious girlfriend tell you to ask about how I killed her mother?" Daniel sneered. He waved his hand in a dismissal of the idea, instead opting to add awkwardly, "She died in a car accident."

"Is that really the truth, Dad?" the blonde pressed upon noticing her father's awkwardness.

Daniel shifted his eyes back and forth. "Of course, Arizona."

"You just told me all I needed to know," Arizona replied solemnly. "Calliope didn't tell me anything, but you just did." The blonde turned from her father, heading back to her door. "I'm going to leave, you can see yourself out." She slammed the apartment door on her way out. Taking out her phone, she furiously texted Callie, hoping the Latina would still talk to her after their blow up a couple hours ago. Once she felt the afternoon sun on her skin, Arizona relaxed a little bit. The bright light helped calm her, rescuing the blonde from the darkness that was her life at the moment.

She headed over to Callie's place for the first time in quite awhile. They spent nearly all of their time at Arizona's. There were a couple of practical reasons for this, but in general, the blonde just felt more comfortable in her own space. She realized she hadn't walked into her girlfriend's building since the night Cristina walked in on them.

Pulling her coat around her body, Arizona slipped inside the gorgeous building, hoping her presence went undetected. She didn't know if Callie's father put her under surveillance, hell, Arizona didn't know if her own father put her under surveillance. Breathing a sigh of relief, the blonde made it to the elevator, and pressed the button for Callie's floor. Exiting the elevator, Arizona made her way down the hall to Callie's place. She thanked God she remembered how to get to the brunette's apartment as she waited outside the blue door. Raising her hand, Arizona knocked on the painted surface, and waited for her girlfriend to answer. The door was ripped open quickly, revealing the Latina whose eyes were red rimmed. "Hi," Arizona whispered, "I'm sorry I just came over, but I needed to see you."

"Arizona," Callie said softly, "you never have to apologize for wanting to see me. I was just surprised at your text¸ that's all." The brunette stepped back from the doorway, motioning for the blonde to answer. "Please come in."

"Thanks," the blonde replied, stepping into the apartment. Looking for some sort of comfort, Arizona laced her fingers through Callie's, and let the warmth from the Latina's hand flow through her body. She exhaled gratefully as Callie led them to the couch. They sat down and the brunette immediately enveloped Arizona in her arms.

"You want to tell me what's going on?" Callie asked, dropping a kiss on top of her head.

Arizona tilted her head up so her eyes could lock with the brunette's. "You mean besides the obvious?"

"Our families suck," the Latina stated as she pulled Arizona closer.

The blonde tilted her head up towards her girlfriend. "I love you too, you know."

Callie raised her eyebrows in surprise. "I'm sorry what?"

Arizona chuckled at the brunette's surprise. "In my classroom, when you were yelling at me, you told me that you loved me enough to warn me or something," the blonde concluded with a nod of her head. "So I want you to know that I love you too."

"You do?" the Latina asked, as a smile slowly spread across her lips.

"I do," Arizona replied, finally closing the gap between them, and pressing her lips against the brunette's. She threaded her slender fingers through Callie's locks as she pulled the Latina even closer. Within moments, Arizona found herself on Callie's lap, her hips grinding sensuously against the brunette's. She slipped her tongue into the Latina's mouth, rubbing it against Callie's while moving her hips to the same languid rhythm.

Callie moaned as she arched her body against Arizona. They ground against one another, tongues sliding, and lips pulling, in a seductive dance. "Arizona," the Latina breathed, trying to catch her breath as her girlfriend peppered her neck with kisses.

"Hmm?" the blonde asked, lazily continuing her pattern of open mouth kisses.

"We should move this to the, uh, bedroom," Callie stammered, her body arching yet again as Arizona's fingers trailed down her sides and squeezed her thighs roughly.

The blonde nodded, scooting off Callie's lap, and pulling her up. The Latina smiled as she tugged Arizona back towards the bedroom. Once passed the door, Callie pushed it closed before recapturing the blonde's lips in a passionate yet tender kiss. She allowed herself to be immersed in all things Arizona, completely giving herself over to what she felt. Callie slid her hands up to the blonde's shoulders, pushing the grey cardigan down her slim arms. Next, she pulled the purple shirt over Arizona's head, and threw it across the room, revealing a lacy black bra. The Latina gasped at the sight. "You're wearing black."

Arizona rolled her eyes and stuck out her tongue. "Someone bought this for me as a gag gift, thinking it'd be amusing."

"I was right," Callie replied playfully, before shedding her own clothing.

The blonde quirked an eyebrow at Callie's bare torso. "What's this?" Arizona inquired coyly, running her hands over Callie's bra encased breasts. "Is this blue I see?"

"Arizona," the brunette pleaded, "just shut up and kiss me."

More than happy to oblige, the blonde crushed her lips against Callie's, sending them propelling towards the bed. They collapsed onto the soft surface in a tangle of limbs, their hands pulling at each other. The Latina toyed with the button of Arizona's pants. Once she finally had them undone, she slid the material down the blonde's milky white skin. Her hands kneaded the newly exposed flesh as she positioned herself between Arizona's legs.

Smiling, Callie felt Arizona's arms reach around to undo her bra. She sat up so she could fully remove it from her body, which the blonde used to her advantage. Rolling them over, Arizona pinned Callie between her legs as she reached around to undo her own bra. After flinging it across the room, the blonde pressed her body against Callie's causing both women to moan. Arizona moved her hands to Callie's jeans, so she could remove the last barrier. As Callie did with her, the blonde hooked her fingers into the elastic of the Latina's underwear as well, taking them off with the jeans. Now fully exposed to one another Arizona relished in the feeling of the electricity flowing between them.

Callie gasped as she felt Arizona's fingers toying with her clit. Her arousal grew with each touch from the blonde. Arizona glanced down at the brunette, swallowing hard. The Latina's eyes, silently pleaded with her to connect them through her touch. Callie moaned loudly as Arizona finally entered with two fingers, establishing a steady rhythm. Wanting to feel Arizona, Callie snaked her hand between the blonde's legs, and slipped her fingers into her warmth.

The two women moved against each other frantically, their hips thrusting wildly. Their moans filled the room as they climbed to higher summits of passion. As they came together, neither woman ever felt more complete. It didn't matter what was happening outside of that room, because in that moment all they were aware of was each other and that was all they needed.

* * *

A/N2: So you made it to the end of a very long chapter. First, I want to say thank you for reading this fic. I can't convey to you all adequately how amazing it makes me feel that you not only read this but also take the time to review. This has been my most successful fic, and that credit goes to you. Over the past couple of weeks a couple of events have occurred in the "fic world" where I think readers were taken for granted. Know that I truly do appreciate your views and reviews. I can't thank you enough.

~KB~


	7. We Couldn't Bring the Columns Down

A/N: Wow, what to say. So the response last chapter was absolutely fantastic. I want to thank all of you again for reading and reviewing. I'll keep this short up here, but if you read my notes, there will be a longer one at the bottom.

Happy Reading,

~KB~

* * *

Chapter 7: We Couldn't Bring the Columns Down

The alarm sounded through the bedroom, waking the couple lounging in bed. Callie lazily reached an arm over to her nightstand, swatting the offending object to the floor. Groaning, the Latina turned back over, and wrapped her arms around the blonde next to her. "Good morning," she murmured against the crook of Arizona's neck.

"Mmm," the blonde moaned, turning over in her lover's arms, "good morning."

Callie stretched her arms above her head, relishing the way her muscles woke up as she moved. "Anything important on the agenda today?"

Arizona shook her head. "Not really. I have a pretty slow day," she replied with a smile. "What about you?"

"I was thinking that I would take my wonderful girlfriend out for coffee," the Latina replied playfully, dropping a quick kiss on Arizona's cheek.

"I could definitely go for some coffee," blonde said with a smirk, burying herself further into her lover's arms.

Their cuddling was interrupted, however, by a buzzing on the nightstand. Callie immediately recognized it as Arizona's phone, so reached over to the wooden surface to grab it. "It's your dad," she said, as she handed the blonde the vibrating phone.

Arizona frowned as she answered the call. "Hello?"

Callie sat on the bed, studying her girlfriend's reactions. It didn't seem good. The blonde was frowning, tears pricking the corners of her eyes. The Latina rubbed her back in a soothing rhythm, hoping the comfort would help to relax Arizona. The blonde shut the phone before turning and curling into Callie's arms. "What happened?" Callie asked.

"You were right," the blonde said, sniffling. "A couple of guys roughed Timothy up last night. That was my dad telling me that my brother is in the hospital and it's my fault."

"That's ludicrous," Callie hissed. "You haven't done anything wrong."

"I'm scared Calliope," Arizona confessed as she clung to the brunette desperately. "I'm afraid of what's going to happen."

"Me too," Callie agreed, kissing Arizona's cheek gently in an effort to inspire some hope for the two of them.

Arizona sighed, brushing the tears away from her cheeks. "I should go see my brother and deal with the Colonel. Can I meet you for coffee after?"

"Absolutely," the brunette nodded, before smiling even wider. "Actually, meet me at the cupcake place over by Children's Memorial's outpatient place."

"Molly's cupcakes?" Arizona asked hopefully.

"The one and only," Callie replied with a chuckle. She felt a warm feeling spread through her body at the sight of Arizona's winning smile.

"Ok," the blonde conceded, reluctantly pulling herself from the bed, "I need to go home so I can change and head over to the hospital. I'll see you in a couple of hours?"

Callie nodded. "Definitely."

"I love you," Arizona nearly whispered as she pressed her lips against Callie's.

The Latina smiled into the kiss, loving the feeling those words carried. "I love you too."

The blonde offered her lover a small smile before gathering her things and leaving the room. She sighed deeply as she prepared to leave the warm cocoon of bliss she and Callie had created. She slung her purse over her shoulder, pulled her jacket close around her body, and opened the door. Leaving the warmth and safety of Callie's apartment behind her, the blonde exited into the hallway, and made her way to the elevator.

She pressed the button to signal the elevator, shifting nervously as she waited. She wasn't lying when she told Callie she was scared. In truth, Arizona was terrified. Mark had been shot; Timothy was in the hospital, who knew what would happen next? She was beginning to understand why Callie would get annoyed with her at the start of their relationship.

Arizona stepped into the elevator as the doors dinged open. She tried to shut off her mind as she rode to the bottom floor, but to no avail. Worry wracked her body uncontrollably. No part of her wanted to go to the hospital and face either her brother or her father. She just wanted to curl back up with Callie and never leave the safety of their apartments.

As she exited the elevator into the lobby, however, Arizona knew it wasn't a possibility. They couldn't live in their bubble forever. She was just afraid of what would happen when they left it. So far it hadn't exactly gone well. Walking across the lobby, the blonde pushed open the door. The morning light washed over her and she reveled in the feeling of warmth provided by the sun. At least she had that small comfort as she walked home.

She reached her building quickly, swiping her card to enter the lobby. Taking the elevator to her floor, Arizona realized she really wanted a shower. When she left Callie's Arizona wasn't entirely positive she was going to take the time to shower, but now she really needed to relax. Showers usually did that for her, though she wasn't convinced it would work this morning.

Arizona walked off the elevator to the door of her condo. She turned the key in the lock, allowing herself to enter her living space. As she walked down the hallway, the blonde tossed her things on the shelf surface before going into her bedroom. She carelessly removed her clothing, turned on the shower, and stepped into the warm spray. Allowing the warmth of the water to dig into her muscles, Arizona let out a contented sigh. She definitely needed this today. From what her father told her, Timothy was not dying, so he could wait a few extra minutes.

Finished with her shower, Arizona stepped out, and dried off. She quickly brushed her hair, opting to just pull it up instead of dealing with blow-drying it. Slipping into jeans, a white t-shirt, and a grey cardigan, the blonde was ready to leave in just a few short minutes. She picked her purse up off the shelf before exiting her apartment. The blonde looked at her watch as she reentered the elevator. She decided against taking the metro, instead pressing the button for the parking garage.

Pulling out her keys from her purse, Arizona walked to the designated place for her car. She pressed the button to unlock the doors, pulled them open, and slid into the driver's seat of the Mazda. She backed out of the parking space, exited the garage, and began the cross town drive to the hospital where Timothy was.

After spending a half hour maneuvering through traffic, Arizona pulled into the hospital parking lot. She turned off her engine, put the car in park, and got out. Slinging her purse over her shoulder, Arizona made her way towards the hospital entrance, locking the door behind her with a click of the button on her keys. Entering the bright, stale environment, the blonde approached the desk. "Hi," she said sweetly to the woman behind the counter, "I'm looking for Timothy Robbins."

The woman clicked her mouse on the computer screen a few times before returning her attention to Arizona. "He's in room 1504."

"Thank you," Arizona replied as she headed down the hall. She was thankful the room was so close. Peeking her head around the corner of the room, the blonde saw her father standing next to Timothy who was buttoning his shirt. "Hey," she said softly. "Are you being discharged, Tim?"

"I am," he replied coldly, "no thanks to your new best friends."

His words caused Arizona to straighten defensively. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Why don't we all take a deep breath," Daniel said, trying to quell the tension between his two children.

"I don't even know why I came here," Arizona stated bluntly.

"Maybe to support your family, Arizona," the Colonel replied, his tone becoming a bit sharper. "That is if we are still your family."

"I'm not even going to validate that question with a response," she hissed in reply. "I'm just going to go. I don't need to be here to listen to you blame me for what is going on. Maybe the two of you should look in the mirror."

Timothy stared after his sister as she stomped out of the room. Her naiveté annoyed the hell out of him and he was sick of it. "Can you just get me out of here?"

"Of course, Tim," the Colonel replied, placing a hand on his shoulder. "The doctor already signed your papers, so let's head back to the penthouse."

"Thanks," Timothy said with a nod, allowing his father to support him a bit as they left the room. They walked slowly out to the parking lot, stopping in front of Daniel's Lexus. Timothy leaned on his father as the Colonel helped him into the car. Timothy looked out of the window for most of the ride back downtown. He had a headache the size of Montana and really just wanted to sleep. Then he would plot his revenge against Sloan. The car came to a stop outside of the Temple Building. Timothy looked to his father in confusion. "Why aren't we going into the garage?"

Daniel smiled at his son. "I thought that since you got a little beat up, some sparkle might bring some light to your eyes. Go on over to the jewelry place and pick something out. Then, meet me up in my office and we can discuss what to do with Torres and Sloan."

"Awesome," Timothy replied as he got out of the car. He buried his hands in the pockets of his hoodie, assuming his usual slumped stature as he walked down the sidewalk. So much of his life was currently fucked. He could barely contain his rage this morning when he saw his sister at his hospital bed. In his mind, it was her selfishness that put him there to begin with. If she and that stupid Torres chick would have just played by the rules, and left everything alone, life could have just continued on. Instead, he woke up this morning with a broken nose, two black eyes, and a couple of cracked ribs.

He was beginning to hate his sister.

Approaching the familiar edifice of the jewelry shop, Timothy breathed a sigh of relief. At least he got to look at some pretty diamonds. It was truly the only good thing that happened to him this morning. Punching in the code, Timothy pushed open the heavy door, smiling as the lights turned on to reveal the sprawling glass cases full of jewels and riches. He ran his fingers over a class containing a diamond studded band that would fit around one of his fingers, as well as a couple of sapphires. Figuring his father wouldn't care what he took; Timothy pocketed all the items in that particular case, before heading back towards the exit.

Timothy closed the door of the jewelry shop, sticking his hands back into his pockets, feeling the jewels rollover in his palms. Lifting his bruised face, he locked eyes with people whom he could only assume were Torres thugs. He frowned as he realized they were approaching him, their eyes blazing behind menacing stares. The blonde flinched as one of their fists connected with his already bruised abdomen. He coughed, feeling another blow against his side. Trying to raise his head, the youngest Robbins felt a fist smash into his jaw. Spitting out a mouthful of blood, Timothy stood tall, chest heaving, eyes cold, and jaw steeled. He wasn't the pushover Sloan seemed to think he was, or else the asshole wouldn't have sent these idiots after him.

Smirking, Timothy kicked the closest goon in the chest, propelling him off the stairs. He landed flat on his back with a loud thud. Turning his attention to the other assailant, the youngest Robbins brandished his pistol. He gripped the barrel and swung the butt into the guy's head, sending him into the railing. Satisfied they were both incapacitated, Timothy returned his gun to the holster sitting on his hip. Looking at the two bodies strewn in front of the jewelry store, Timothy felt rage flow through his body. No one attacked him and got away with it, especially Mark Sloan, who was apparently too much of a pussy to take him on himself.

Timothy moved as quickly as he could towards the nearest gas station. He purchased a two gallon container from the convenience store before heading out to one of the pumps to fill it. After filling the container, Timothy lugged it the remaining block over to the stairs leading down to Baila. He kicked open the door, pulling out his gun just in case he ran into trouble. Dousing the entire club in gasoline, Timothy had no idea whether or not Sloan was in his office. Pulling off his jacket, Timothy soaked that in the flammable liquid as well before putting it in the center of the room. Taking out his lighter and a cigarette, the youngest Robbins moved towards the door. "Sloan," he shouted up towards the office, "if you're in here, you might want to get out soon."

With that he lit the cigarette and tossed it towards his sweatshirt. The room ignited in a blaze, the flames dancing in Timothy's eyes. His lips twitched into a devilish smirk as he watched the room burn. The fire licked at the walls and the flames spread throughout the club. As the fire neared him, Timothy took one final look before turning his back on the burning room and walking out.

**  
Inside his office, Mark suddenly lifted his head from Addison's neck as smoke floated into the room. Pulling himself from the redhead's arms, he rushed to the glass windows overlooking the club. Upon seeing the flames move across the room that used to be the primary space of his nightclub, Mark shouted, "Holy shit! Addison back up!"

"What's going on?" Addison asked as she sat up and straightened her clothing.

"Someone set fire to the club," Mark answered quickly, scrambling towards his desk. He grabbed a stapler from the surface and turned to the wall behind him. Eyeing the small window at the top of the wall, he threw the stapler at the glass, shielding Addison as it shattered. Guiding her back to the wall, Mark hoisted her up to the window. "Grab the ledge and get out," he instructed. "Call the fire department when you do."

"What about you?" Addison asked, fear quaking in her voice.

"I'm going to turn on the sprinklers and get out. Don't worry about me," Mark answered as he held Addison's weight. She grabbed the ledge, wincing as her hands were cut from the glass shards remaining in the window. Setting aside her pain she pulled herself up, and rolled out the window. Mark turned his attention back to the burning room below. He ran to his office door and tossed it open. The entire main floor of the night club was overrun with flames. Coughing from the billowing smoke, Mark covered his mouth with his arm, and darted into the furnace. The flames hadn't quite reached the stairs yet, so he was able to get sprint to the bottom quickly. Cringing in the heat, Mark groped the wall to find the handle of the fire alarm. Finally feeling his fingers slide against Americium, he jerked the handle downward, sending the water shooting from the sprinklers.

Gasping for air, Mark dashed across the room through the dwindling flames to the door. Once he managed to get out into the open air, Mark collapsed against the stairs, taking shallow breaths in an attempt to fill his lungs. Addison came from around the corner, pulling him into her arms. She stroked his back as he tried to breathe. "Shhh," she soothed, "it's going to be fine."

"That fucker," Mark cursed once he was able to regain his voice.

Addison raised her eyebrows. "What are you talking about?"

"It was Robbins, who did this," the nightclub manager spat.

"That's awfully bold of you, Mark," the redhead commented, still rubbing his back.

"I saw the rat's sweatshirt burning in the middle of the room," Mark hissed. "I'd know that stupid blue anywhere, I don't care if it was on fire." Sighing, Mark lifted his hands to massage his temples. He had no idea what exactly he was going to do next, but he knew he had to speak to Carlos. "I need to go to headquarters," he informed Addison. "Carlos needs to know about this."

The redhead nodded in understanding. "Ok, just be careful please. Call me later?"

"Definitely," Mark replied, tilting his head so he could steal a kiss. After peeling his lips from Addison's, Mark stood on the steps, quickly jogged away towards LFT headquarters. He entered the towering skyscraper slightly out of breath, and more than a bit anxious. Even more so, Mark supposed, he felt anger. As far as he was concerned, Timothy's stunt this morning was the last straw. He knew Carlos showed restraint over the years, something Mark learned from him, but those times ended the moment flames erupted. Baila was ruined, perhaps beyond repair. That was his livelihood being attacked, and that was unacceptable.

Mark rode the elevator up to the floor where Carlos' office was located. He exited the steel box, his feet moving quickly against the floor. "Papa T," he declared as he approached the massive black marble desk, "we have a problem."

From behind his desk, Carlos took in Mark's tattered appearance. His jeans were dirty, his shirt a wrinkled mess, and sweat dripped down his blackened face. "Jesus, Mark. What happened?"

"Our dear friend Timothy Robbins took it upon himself to burn down Baila," Mark sneered. "I managed to get the sprinklers on because for some reason they didn't turn on immediately, but it's pretty burned."

"And you're sure it was Robbins?" Carlos asked, eying Mark carefully. He wanted to be sure that it was indeed a member from that family before he told Mark to retaliate. No need to start what was probably to become a war if was just some thug being an idiot. "I just want you to be positive."

"No doubt in my mind," Mark answered without hesitation.

"Ok," Carlos said with a nod of his head. "Go to that jewelry shop that is always closed, but Robbinses seem to go in and out of. You know which one I'm talking about?"

"Yeah," Mark replied, "I saw Timothy come out of there the other day."

Carlos smirked. "I want you to break in. Bust a window, crack the code, pick the lock, whatever. I don't care how you manage to get in there, just make sure you do. I don't know what the Colonel keeps in that room, but take it. Clean the place out. Make sure you have Avery and Karev with you and have them burn it to the ground," the older man got a glint in his eye. "Bring me whatever you find."

Mark smirked, a shiver of excitement running down his spine. He couldn't wait to get back at that little shit and his precious father. His eyes gleaming, he said to Carlos, "Yes, sir."

Arizona collapsed onto the chair situated outside of the small café. Puffing the hair from her face, she offered Callie a slightly forced smile. "Hi."

"Hi," Callie said slowly, unsure of how she should respond to the blonde's clearly disturbed demeanor.

"This day sucks," the blonde blurted, covering her face with her hands. "I never should have gone to the hospital!"

"Arizona," the Latina said gently, her voice almost in a whisper. She reached across the table and took the blonde's hands away from her face, cradling them in her own. "Tell me what happened."

"It's nothing," Arizona responded shaking her head. "Just my father and brother being assholes. They're blaming me for everything, and it's just so dumb. I love you," she said honestly, "and I don't understand why they insist on blaming our relationship for their problems. It's petty and ridiculous, and quite frankly, it's exhausting. I don't think I can take it much longer," the blonde finished, her eyes welling from the emotions of the past few months.

Callie's heart broke as she looked at the exhaustion painted on the woman's face before her. She knew she didn't have the power to fix it completely, but she did know something they could do. "Run away with me," she pleaded.

"W-what?" Arizona stammered.

"Let's just go," the brunette repeated. "We can go to…Iowa," she suggested on a whim, "or Denver. It doesn't matter."

Despite the grim mood, Arizona found herself chuckling just a bit. "I like skiing, so I say we go to Denver."

"Denver it is," Callie said with a smile. "We can live in a cabin."

"And go skiing every day," Arizona offered.

"And have a huge fireplace," the brunette added.

"And a Christmas tree for the Holidays with an angel on top."

"And a bunch of little Arizona's running around."

The blonde blushed at Callie's words. "And maybe a couple of little Callie's too."

"We could be happy," the Latina commented softly.

"Yeah," Arizona agreed sadly, "we could."

The pregnant silence between them said more than words ever could. Their eyes locked, both painfully realizing the depth of their plight. Callie's thumb caressed the top of Arizona's, seeking some kind of comfort. "I wish we could go to Denver."

"Me too, Calliope," the blonde whispered, a tear escaping the corner of her eye.

Callie lifted her hand with her fingers still entwined with Arizona's. She swept her finger across the soft skin of the blonde's cheek, flicking away the tear. Leaning over the table, she gently captured Arizona's lips between her own trembling ones. Pouring all of the feeling she had into the kiss, the Latina felt herself also become emotional. Slowly peeling her lips from Arizona's, Callie leaned back in her chair. She placed a lingering kiss on the back of the blonde's hand, before sniffling and brushing away her own tears. She shook her head, as she wiped them away, regaining her composure. "So," Callie said, her voice feeling awkward, "should we order some coffee?"

"Coffee would be a good idea right now," Arizona agreed.

Callie flashed a frail smile. "Perfect," she said, getting up to place their order inside. This café was pretty fast, so Callie just waited by the counter. She tapped her fingers against the glass waiting for their coffee. Smiling at the coffee girl, she took the coffee cups, and headed back outside to Arizona. They sat and chatted as they sipped their drinks, trying to put the melancholic sadness of the previous conversation behind them.

Their conversation was interrupted, however, by the sounds of sirens passing through the air and the parade of fire trucks driving down State Street. Their eyes followed the movement of the emergency vehicles worriedly, praying to God they weren't responding to anything regarding their families, but knowing deep down, that praying would only give them false hope.

The trucks continued down the road, stopping just outside Robbins' jewelry shop which was engulfed in flames. The firefighters rushed inside the burning building, their feet crunching on broken glass. The fire was quickly diffused, the fire fighters filing out of the room. The accompanying policeman reached for his radio, holding it up so he could hear the report. There was another fire down at the El Banco Primero on Michigan Avenue. Another notice of the radio informed him of another fire at one of the banks owned by Daniel Robbins. This wasn't looking good. He radioed in his position before taking off to his cruiser.

The dark sky above descended on the city, casting a grim shadow onto all those below. Fires burned in buildings owned by the two warring families. Black and blue clashed in the streets. The Robbins clan invaded the bank lying at the bottom of the Torres headquarters at El Banco Primer-Familia, clearing the room of all workers before breaking into the vault. In a matter of minutes, they cleared out the entire thing, escaping back onto the street with millions of dollars in hand.

Across town at the Temple Building, the Torres gang had invaded the primary bank of the Robbins family. Taking them hostage, the workers were rounded up in the corner. Originally there just to incite terror, upon catching wind of the robbery at El Banco Primero-Familia, the goons picked two of the goons known to guard the Colonel. Forcing them to kneel on the tile, two Torres compatriots lifted their Glocks to the back of the kneeled men's heads. Without flinching and in front of each of the hostages, they pulled their triggers. Blood splattered onto the walls as the bullets entered their skulls. The executed men fell forward onto the floor without any regard by their executioners. The Torres men walked out of the Temple Building, brief cases full of cash, their feet leaving bloody footprints on the previously stark white tile.

The bloodthirsty families stalked the streets. Red stained every sidewalk upon which they walked and every brick they touched. With each new stain, their eyes blazed for more. It was like opening Pandora's box. One prick of blood and it was like the thirst was finally being fed. Up in their towers, the two patriarchs watched the unfolding madness with thin smirks dancing across their jaded features. For too long had their argument remained petty and passive. The time had come for it to finally be settled, once and for all. Joined by their right hand men, they each nodded towards them, signaling the time for a final confrontation.

Their best would decide.

* * *

A/N2: So this chapter got a little bit intense….for that reason, it was a little shorter than usual. For that, I apologize. My spring break is coming, so I will be finishing this fic up fairly soon. It was originally going to be 8 chapters, but I've decided that 9 works better. Basically I broke up this chapter, so the next one might be shorter as well…perhaps as short as 3k (gasp). That's what I'm guessing, though, who knows? Watch me write 5k lol. Anyway, I wanted to apologize again for the time between updates. For those of you who leave signed reviews, you know that my writers block has been rough. School is crazy too, but I promise that you will all have a conclusion soonish. It is always your reviews, comments, nudges, and PMs that keep me going and motivate me to write. I never want to let you all down, and I hope this did not. A very very special thank you to my fiancée and beta, Alleon, who literally read on command for me today. I also want to thank Skones who, as always, makes sure I don't stray off the deep end. Their critiques and guidance have helped shaped this fic just as much as my writing. They've been with me since the beginning (like in October) and I'm proud to say that we've all almost made it to the end. Buckle your seatbelts peeps, the end is gonna get crazy. I love knowing what you think...if you're pissed, scared, worried, anxious...whatever...let me know. :)

All my best,

~KB~


	8. Nightmare

A/N: So this chapter…there's tons to say about it, but I will refrain for now (see bottom if you're curious and actually read my ridiculous notes :P). I would like to thank my wonderful fiancée for beta-ing this tonight…basically on command. She's awesome and I kinda like her just a little. Also, thank you to Skones who puts up with my freak outs for this fic. *sigh* ok.

Happy Reading,

~KB~

p.s. disclaimer: This chapter is kind of graphic at points. Just giving you a heads up.

* * *

Chapter 8: Nightmare

Fire burned the city, a mixture of red and orange flaring towards the sky. Mark walked purposefully amongst the flame and ash, his course set for the harbor. Clenching his fists in the pockets of his leather jacket, the enforcer steeled his jaw in preparation for what was to come. Adrenaline pumped through his veins as he approached the docks. The nod from Carlos made the instructions perfectly clear: take out Timothy Robbins.

He'd hated that spoiled bitch from the moment he met him. His brazen arrogance and pretty boy eyes made Mark's stomach churn. Rubbing his fingers over the gold of his CZ-75B pistol, Mark's muscles twitched with anticipation. He relished in the crunch below feet as they touched the gravel for the first time. His eyes flashed to his right, as the light from a car washed over him. Seeing the silver of what could only be Timothy's Audi, Mark slid down the hill to the asphalt by the warehouse. There were no crates, just flat open space for he and Timothy to duke it out.

Mark's eyes narrowed at the sound of feet hitting the pavement in front of him. His eyes focused on the figure coming into view. Mark swore he say the sparkle in the green eyes before he could fully see Timothy. His adversary arrived clad in a mixture of white and blue. He wore white jeans while his torso adorned a white tee underneath a blue hoodie. On top of the zip-up he wore a white jacket. Smirking, Mark peeled off his black, leather jacket, tossing it to the side. The familia tattoo on his shoulder slithered across the skin as his muscles tensed in excitement.

Timothy's eyes focused straight ahead, his penetrating gaze completely locked on Mark as he removed his own white coat. He stretched his arms above his head, making sure his sweatshirt rose so Mark could get a good look at his 9mm Glock. The Torres enforcer smiled ruefully as he displayed the gold of his own pistol. "Are we going to set rules for this thing?" The Robbins prince sneered.

"Only one," Mark answered, excitement lacing his voice, "loser dies."

"Any last words Sloan?" Timothy questioned.

Mark blew the blonde a sarcastic kiss. "Say hello to mommy dearest for me."

At those words, Timothy charged. Smirking, Mark awaited the initial impact. As Timothy lunged, Mark thrust his shoulder forward, dropping the smaller man flat on his back. The Torres enforcer lifted his foot before jabbing it into Timothy's already bruised ribs. He wheezed at the pain of Mark's foot crashing into him. "Fuck," Timothy cursed, holding himself around his stomach. He rolled away from Mark who snickered at the forced movements.

"Get up, you pussy!" Mark shouted, laughing after the scampering blonde.

Green eyes blazing, the youngest Robbins stood up and faced Mark. His body trembling, Timothy clenched his fists at his sides. Cracking his neck, he prepared himself to engage Mark fully. With a swing of his fist, Timothy's knuckles connected sharply with Mark's jaw. The older man grunted at the impact, but did not shy away. Instead, he retaliated with a body shot. Timothy winced as Mark hit him on the bruised ribs he'd sustained the day prior, crouching from the pain.

Mark spat the bit of blood from his mouth, a darkened smile spreading across his lips. The mild wind whistled through his dirty blonde hair, washing over him as he prepared to strike. He reached down and grabbed Timothy's shirt. Pulling him forward, the older man studied the blonde's face menacingly before spitting on it. He cocked his fist, smirking as he began to pummel Timothy's face. Mark's fist connected over and over again with the tissue covered bones, each one providing a deafening crack.

Timothy spat the blood from his mouth into Mark's face, giving him time to separate himself from the older man's hold. Mark smirked sinisterly as he wiped the blood and saliva mixture from his cheek. Timothy stood across from him, dancing on his toes, and ready. Mark lunged, but the blonde blocked him. Timothy twisted Mark's arm around his back, sliding his other arm around the Torres enforcer's neck, so his bicep pressed against Mark's throat.

"What's going on down here?" Addison shouted from the gravel near Timothy's car.

"Get out of here, Addison," Mark managed to choke out, trying to wiggle out of Timothy's grasp.

"Please," the red head pleaded as she saw Timothy tighten his hold on Mark, beginning to strangle him. "Just stop it."

Mark maneuvered out of Timothy's grasp, punching him in the face as he did so. "Addison," he begged, kicking Timothy again, "get the hell out of here!" His cold, grey eyes bore into Addison's. "Just go," he breathed before returning his attention to a crawling Timothy.

Addison flinched as Mark's foot came into contact with the younger man's stomach. She couldn't watch anymore. Turning from the gruesome fight below, Addison ran a bandaged hand through her flowing red locks in frustration. She was at a loss. Watching Mark and Timothy fight terrified her. For years, this stupid rivalry had been petty; little sabotages here and there and the occasional beating in the alley, but nothing major. Truthfully, it made the Sharks and the Jets look badass and uber violent, despite their snapping and dancing tights.

Something changed, however. Over the past month this somewhat benign rivalry had transformed into a family war, littering the streets with bullet casings and blood. Of course Addison knew what had changed, but initially she really didn't think it would be an issue.

Addison crossed the street in a hurried walk. Once further down the street, she waved her hand in the air, and hailed a cab. Climbing into the yellow car, she gave the driver the desired address. The redhead threw her head back against the headrest, settling into her seat as the car sped towards Michigan Ave. She didn't know exactly what she was going to say to Callie, but Addison knew she needed her help desperately. The way things were going at the docks, Mark and Timothy were out for blood. This wasn't a little fist fight; it was highly probable that the loser would not be walking away. She'd be damned if she lost Mark right after she finally got him back in the first place.

As the cab came to a stop on Michigan Ave, Addison handed the driver a wad of cash before hurrying out of the car and into Callie's building. Her long strides carried the redhead quickly to the elevator. Within a couple of minutes, she stood in front of her best friend's door. After knocking a couple of times, Addison sighed.

No answer.

Addison felt along the doorframe, smiling when she found what she was looking for. Her fingers traced a small panel. Pressing it in, a box popped out just above it. She reached her hand inside, and pulled out Callie's spare key. Letting herself into the apartment, Addison called out, "Callie? Hello?" As she moved through the silent apartment, it appeared to be empty. She noticed a green coat draped over the arm of the sofa, however, and knew instantly that was not the case. The coat didn't belong to Callie, and it certainly wasn't Cristina's; she would never be caught dead in such a color.

"Callie?" Addison called more forcefully. She began to boil in rage and frustration. How dare Callie be shacking up with a Robbins while Mark was out fighting for his life! Didn't she know what was going on? "Callie!" Addison shouted.

The Latina emerged from her bedroom, her hair slightly disheveled. Her jeans were unbuttoned, as was her shirt. She was also very obviously frustrated. "What Addison?"

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Addison asked angrily.

Callie quirked an eyebrow. "Shouldn't I be asking you that? You're the one who barged in here unannounced, presumably using my spare key which is only for emergencies."

"This is an emergency!" the redhead fired back.

"And what is so fucking important that you had to break in here?"

Addison took a deep breath before answering. "Mark and Timothy are down at the docks fighting."

Callie shrugged, not understanding the significance. This was a relatively common occurrence. "So? What else is new, Addie?"

"That's not what I mean," Addison responded, shaking her head. "This is different. If someone doesn't stop them, they will kill each other."

The Latina rolled her eyes. She knew her family fought with the Robbins family, especially Mark and Timothy, but murder seemed highly improbable. "Stop being such a drama queen, Addison. It'll be fine. I'm going back to my room."

The redhead grabbed the retreating woman's arm. "Please, Callie," she begged, "just listen to me."

"Addison," Callie said with a sigh, "stop worrying about it. Everything will be fine."

"Wake up, Torres," Addison all but yelled. "I don't know what's wrong with you, but you seem to be living in this stupid bubble. You can't keep shutting yourself in with Arizona and pretend the world is ok. I know you saw the fire trucks today and heard the sirens because you texted me about them. You know that Mark and I just escaped Baila before it was completely engulfed in flames. You know the amount of hate that is between your family and hers, and yet you refuse to admit this is possible. Callie, you have to open your eyes. Mark could die by her brother's hand. You can't pretend anymore."

"Get out," the Latina demanded.

"What?" Addison asked, incredulous at her friend's blatant brush off.

"Get out," Callie repeated.

"What about Mark?"

"I'll go to the docks," the brunette conceded, "but you still need to leave." With that, Callie turned on her heel, and went back to her bedroom. She sighed as she closed the door behind her. She leaned against it with her eyes closed, waiting to hear the door to her apartment close as well. Once she was sure Addison had left, the Latina pushed herself off the surface of the door and went to the bathroom. Callie knew she probably should have talked to Arizona, but she really needed a couple of minutes to process what was happening. She buttoned her shirt and pants before fixing her hair just a little bit, so it was at least presentable.

The Latina opened the bathroom door to find Arizona standing there with a sheet wrapped around her. "What's going on?" The blonde asked, her blue eyes searching Callie's eyes and face for answers.

"I have to go down to the docks," Callie answered, but provided no other information.

Arizona looked at the floor nervously. "You know," she began cautiously, "I heard what you and Addison were talking about."

"I figured," the brunette confessed as she tied her shoes.

Arizona crossed the room, taking Callie's hands in hers. "Please," she whispered, "be careful."

"I will," Callie responded, placing a lingering kiss on the blonde's lips.

"Promise me you'll stop them?" the blonde asked hopefully.

Tears threatened to fall from the corners of Callie's eyes at the pain etched on her girlfriend's face. "Yes, I will do everything in my power."

"I love you," Arizona whispered.

Callie closed the space between them, capturing the blonde's lips in a final kiss, pouring every ounce of love she felt into it. Their bodies melded together as they communicated their love and passion for one another. Pulling back, the Latina rested her forehead against Arizona's. "I love you too."

Callie dropped a quick kiss on the blonde's cheek before slipping out of her grasp and walking towards the door. Before she could change her mind, the Latina quickly left the bedroom. She made her way to the door of the apartment, sliding through that one quickly as well. Callie rode the elevator down to the parking garage, her heart pounding in her ears. She crossed the dark garage hurriedly, unlocking her car with a press of the button on her keys. She slid into her T-bird, and turned on the engine.

Driving towards the docks, Callie tried to control her breathing and anxiety. Her breath came in short and shallow swallows; her pulse racing. She couldn't believe this was happening. If Addison was right, someone could die tonight. This was what the Latina had been terrified of when she and Arizona first started dating. She didn't exactly picture this scenario, but Callie was definitely afraid of the tensions rising high enough between their families that they reached their boiling point. Apparently that happened today.

Worst timing ever.

Callie pulled into the gravel lot of the docks, parking the car next to Timothy's Audi. She heard the shuffling and fighting happening on the asphalt below, her heart immediately jumping into her throat. Dashing down the grassy hill, Callie sprinted towards the two warring men. Mark's shirt was torn, Timothy's was tattered, and both were dripping with blood and sweat. Finally reaching the two of them, the Latina stepped between them just as they were about to engage once more.

"Stop," she cried, holding her arms up between Mark and Timothy. "You guys need to cut it out. This stupid feud is not worth your lives."

"Get this dumb bitch out of here," Timothy sneered, far too consumed by anger and adrenaline to hear any sort of reason.

"Watch your mouth Robbins," Mark spat before turning to Callie, "You need to leave, Cal. Just let us settle this."

"No," the Latina emphasized, holding her ground. "I'm not going to leave. We all just need to go home and deal with this another day."

"Oh please," Timothy said, rolling his eyes. He pushed Callie out of the way, sending her tumbling to the asphalt.

"That was unnecessary Robbins," Mark hissed, approaching the smaller man yet again.

"Let's just get on with it," Timothy returned, crouching into an attacking stance. He lunged at Mark, his body crashing into him full force. They went careening to the ground, rolling over one another as they struggled for the upper hand. Mark landed on top Timothy, pulling back and punching him in the jaw. The blonde returned the favor, sending Mark off of him with one solid left hook. Mark sat up and reached for his gun. He managed to raise it and take aim at Timothy, but the youngest Robbins kicked it out of his hands before he could pull the trigger.

"Mark!" Callie screamed, praying he could escape what was coming. She ran towards him, trying to get to Timothy before he could do the unthinkable. She knew from the sneer on his face, however, that she was going to be too late. Just as Mark turned, Timothy fired his gun. The bullet flew towards Mark, slicing through the skin of his forehead. He fell back to the asphalt, a look of shock painted on his face forever. His grey eyes stared at Callie blankly, as the blood leaked from behind his head onto the dried tar.

A vengeful cry flew from Callie's lips as she whirled on Timothy. Reaching down to the ground, she picked up Mark's blood soaked gun. In a fitful rage, she took aim at Timothy, emptying the clip towards him. The bullets tore through his body, bringing him to his knees. Lowering the gun, the Latina's eyes widened in horror upon seeing the blood trickle from Timothy's mouth, before he fell forward onto the pavement. She stared at the gold plated weapon in disbelief. Dropping the gun to the ground with a clang, Callie fell to her knees in despair. A hopeless scream ripped through her body as the tears flowed freely from her deep brown eyes.

Looking around, she became nauseous at the sight, at what she had done. Getting up, she ran to the edge of the water, vomiting over the edge as she held her stomach. She was supposed to fix the situation. She promised Arizona. Oh God, Arizona. The thought brought a fresh wave of nausea through her body, sending her puking over the edge again. She could hear sirens in the background, presumably approaching this very spot. She had to get to Arizona; she would deal with the consequences later. Callie began to sprint up the small hill towards her car. As the sirens grew nearer, however, Callie knew she didn't have time to get to it. Jogging back down the hill, she heard crunches on the gravel. Instinctively she turned towards the sound, pausing for just a moment before sprinting down the pavement and out of sight.

The Latina didn't know it, but the noise she heard was Teddy approaching the scene of the night's events. The journalist had been sent there to cover the developing story about the family war happening in the city. She hadn't expected this, however. A police friend of hers informed Teddy of the 911 call from someone, claiming to have heard gunshots at the docks. Because of the nature of her friendship with Arizona, Teddy knew that was a typical spot for clashes between the families, so she jumped in her car and came here. Peering towards the asphalt, what she saw overwhelmed her with sadness. Timothy laid face down in a pool of what was presumably his own blood. A few feet away from him was Mark Sloan, also dead. Arizona called her earlier to tell her that Callie was going to fix everything, but clearly quite the opposite occurred here.

Reaching into her pocket, Teddy pulled out her cell phone, and dialed Arizona's number. "Hello?" the typical perky voice of her friend answered, though it was laced with just a hint of nervousness.

"Arizona," Teddy breathed, unsure of how she was going to break this news to her friend.

"Teddy? What's going on? Why are you calling me?" the blonde asked, clearly becoming upset.

"Arizona, I'm down at the docks…" Teddy began.

"Is Callie ok?" Arizona frantically asked. "Tell me she's ok."

Teddy took a deep breath. "Ariz…"

"Is Callie ok?" The blonde yelled into the phone.

Unable to hold it back any longer, Teddy blurted, "She killed your brother!"

A long, pregnant silence lingered between them. "You're lying," Arizona hissed.

"Arizona," Teddy pleaded, "Mark and Timothy are dead and I saw Callie running from here with my own eyes. Why would she run if she wasn't guilty?"

"I have to go," the blonde replied abruptly.

"Ariz…"

"Bye Teddy," Arizona said, hanging up the phone with a click. She stared at the device in shock. It couldn't be true. There was no way _her _Calliope would kill anyone, let alone her brother. None of it made sense. She promised to stop it; that's what she was doing down there. Walking to her kitchen, Arizona poured herself a glass of wine. She sat on the edge of her couch, sipping delicately on the glass. Before long, the emotions of what she'd just heard caught up with her. Her brother was dead, and he was killed by the one person she loved most in the world. Blubbering, she downed the rest of the wine in three large gulps before breaking down into body wracking sobs.

After drinking another glass of wine and crying for another twenty minutes, the sadness began to drift into anger. It could have been due to the alcohol, or maybe she was just done processing her grief, but all she could see was rage. Arizona stood and stomped to her closet. She hated this stupid feud. She hated her father. She hated Callie's father. She hated Callie. She hated herself. She was just so full of hate and anger and sadness that she couldn't see straight. Ripping open the door to her closet, the blonde slashed through the items, taking every blue item off its hanger. After making a pile of clothes she'd never wear again, Arizona began to tear them all to shreds. She ripped the flimsy material by the seams.

The blonde froze when she heard the familiar tapping on the door of her balcony. It could only be one person. She could hear Callie pleading on the other side of the door. Deciding it would be more productive to just answer the door, Arizona stood and opened it. Even though she knew Teddy was probably telling the truth, she didn't fully believe it until she saw the Latina in the flesh. She looked tired and battered. Blood stained her clothes and a look of deep pain was etched on her face. In that moment, it became absolutely clear to her that Callie killed her brother.

"Arizona," Callie pleaded, seeing the look of horror on her face.

"Killer!" Arizona shouted, punching the brunette in the shoulder. "Killer!" she yelled again as she punched Callie. "Killer! Killer! Killer!" she continued to shout, still punching the Latina, who simply stood there, willingly taking the beating. Arizona screamed and punched Callie over and over, collapsing in a fit of sobs in Callie's arms. She struggled against the hug as Callie enveloped her, but was unable to fully wrench herself from the comforting resting place of her lover's embrace.

"I'm so sorry," Callie whispered against the blonde's hair, her own emotions bubbling to the surface. "I'm so sorry," she murmured again.

The sound of Callie's pained voice reminded Arizona of the current circumstances. She shouldn't be with Callie like this; she couldn't be with Callie like this. The woman murdered her brother and despite what she may say, there was no explanation. No love in the world could fix this between them or between their fathers for that matter. There was no hope. "Calliope," Arizona said, stepping out of the Latina's arms, "I can't."

"Please, Arizona," Callie begged. "Please."

"I can't do this, Callie," the blonde repeated, "I just can't."

"Arizona please," the Latina tried again. "It was an accident; I didn't mean to kill him."

"How do you not mean to shoot someone, Callie?"

"He…Mark…" the brunette trailed off, "I didn't mean to."

Despite her anger, Arizona's heart broke for Callie. Neither of them asked for this, and yet here they were in the worst situation imaginable. But it still didn't change anything. "You need to go."

Sirens wailed in the background. Callie knew they were looking for her, but she couldn't bear to pull herself away. Arizona, however, walked away from her. She left the bedroom, closing the door behind her, and leaving Callie standing there alone.

"Callie," someone hissed from the balcony.

Recognizing the voice, the brunette followed it. "Addison?" she asked. "How'd you find me?"

"Lucky guess," the redhead answered, tugging on the Latina's arm. "Come on, we have to go," she said before beginning her descent of the fire escape.

"Where are we going?" Callie asked once they reached the alley, completely confused.

"We have to get you out of the city. I'm taking you to Hoffman Estates, so we can hide you."

"Fuck," Callie cursed angrily.

"Come on," Addison urged. "We have to go now."

Callie capitulated to Addison's will. She could hear the sirens getting closer, the usual calm of the night betraying her. With one last look over her shoulder, the Latina followed her friend into the night and safety. The crushing reality of the darkness hit her square in the face: she'd lost everything.

* * *

A/N2: First, I want to say that I anguished over this chapter. I've been planning this for a very long time, and I'm admittedly very nervous. Those of you who read my fics regularly know this is an extreme variation from my regular genre of writing. I say this because I have had a few people say they will put me on their "don't read list" because of how angsty this is. I'm willing to discuss at length any part of this fic if that's something any of you want. Anyway…I digress. I'm really interested in your reactions. I can take it: the good, the bad, and the ugly. I'm sorry about the timing of this and how it coincides with Grey's…that just kind of sucks. I'll make it up with a Fire update in a couple of days (for those of you who read that). Thanks for reading and reviewing (if you do).

All my best,

~KB~


	9. You Are My Sweetest Downfall reprise

A/N: Ok so here is the end of Things Fall Apart. I ask that you read the concluding author's note, as it will say much more than what I am about to ramble about up here. So I want to thank everyone who has stuck with this story...despite it's depressing undertones. Your reviews and alert subscriptions and time do not go unappreciated. I will say that I am going to go on hiatus for a bit. School is getting crazy and I have wrapped up pretty much everything (with the exception of fire...which i just have to post). I do have a couple of fic ideas in mind, and I'm always looking for feedback, so let me know if you're interested in that. Also...I'm not opposed to taking one-shot requests; I just won't be publishing any multi-chaptered fics for a month or so.

Anyway, thank you to Ali and Skones for kicking my ass into gear and making this into what I intended it to be. Also for having my back and believing in me when I didn't think I could do it.

As always...Happy Reading,

~KB~

* * *

Chapter 9: You Are My Sweetest Downfall (reprise)

Two processions moved down the streets of downtown Chicago. Separated by only a few blocks, each family mourned the loss of their golden suns. The sky had cleared, finally, and shed a beacon of light down onto the families. As per their usual style, the Torres family was clad in all black, their darkness providing their sole comfort in the blinding light. They bowed their heads, allowing the words of the  
priest to wash over them as if his reassuring words gave them any hope of redemption.

The Robbins clan dressed in all white with blue accents. They projected their profile of strength, beauty, and goodness. They held their heads high and steeled their jaws, pretending that no amount of sadness could tear them from their self imposed pedestal. Their backs stiffened against the harsh wood of the church pews, their bones knowing they had no business being in such a sacred building.  
Arizona stuck out like a sore thumb amongst the parade of white moving through the church. Instead of shrouding herself in white and blue like she was some kind of angel, she opted for a soft, green dress that fell to the floor. Her eyes squeezed shut, the blonde sat next to her father. The Colonel donned a white tux with his customary Robbins blue tie. His eyes burned a fiery blue, the heat and anger from his gaze nearly setting the church ablaze. Arizona shifted uncomfortably next to him as the priest began the service.

Her eyes focused on the older man; she could see his lips move, but she heard nothing. She felt nothing except this wretched emptiness. This whole situation was hopeless. Her heart shattered into a million pieces as soon as she got the call from Teddy a couple of nights ago. Her brother was dead; killed by the love of her life. Those were the facts, and there was no escaping them. Each night she closed her eyes, Arizona saw Timothy's blood stained sweater and the twisted pain in Callie's eyes. They'd been consumed by the hate that surrounded their families without any hope of restoring the love and light between them. She and Callie would always be tainted by the darkness of everything that shouldn't have mattered.

Arizona figured she'd be used to the dark by now. Something was so enticing about not caring anymore, and just allowing herself to spiral through the hate not worrying about on what beach she'd wash up. As her cold eyes lingered on her father, however, she realized she wanted nothing more than to not turn out like him. The Timothy Robbins they were burying today was not the brother with whom she grew up, the brother whom she loved.

Timothy used to be playful and fun. They dressed up as kids, and were always rough housing. Timothy was so full of life. He loved school, and his family. He loved to learn and had this happy sparkle in his green eyes. She'd never forget the look on his face when he graduated from the University of Chicago. Arizona had never seen her brother so happy. Once he went off to Michigan, however, something changed. The light in his eyes began to dim, and he focused more and more on his relationship with their father.

That was when Arizona started to really notice the tensions between her family and the Torreses. Timothy would do internships at one of the branches of her father's banks, so he could be groomed for his position as the Colonel's successor. Timothy liked to pretend Arizona didn't know what was going on, but she knew he was doing stuff regarding their father's business. She preferred not to know the details; that had been her stance for most of her adult life. Sometimes the blonde wondered if she would have drifted further from her family faster, if she had paid more attention.

Of course, Arizona knew most of her thoughts at the moment were irrational. Distancing herself from the family couldn't have saved her brother and it wouldn't have made her relationship with Callie any more feasible.

It could have saved her, she thought.

Arizona sighed as the funeral continued. She remained staring straight ahead, ignoring her father who was about to give the eulogy. She already knew he was going to babble about what a golden boy Timothy was and how dedicated he was to the family business. Of course if Timothy hadn't been so dedicated to the "cause" or whatever her father had just called it, he would still be breathing. If her father had actually acted like the man he portrayed himself to be, Arizona might have a chance at happiness. Instead she sat in a church, weeping, with no mother, no brother, and no one to hold her and tell her everything would be ok.

The pallbearers carried the heavy coffin down the center church aisle, each step giving Arizona a painful reminder of the eternal absence of her brother. The building felt like it shook with the heaviness of the moment. Arizona thought she'd feel sadness and despair hovering in the air, but as she looked around the church, she only saw enough fire and anger to match her father's.

The blonde followed the coffin up the aisle, walking solemnly next to her father. Her green dress flowed across the floor, putting her declaration of independence on full display. Steeling herself against the whispers from the crowd and the glares from her father, Arizona continued her slow recession towards the door. She followed her father into the waiting ivory Mercedes, taking a seat next to him, and looking out the window.  
"You shouldn't have worn green," the Colonel stated emphatically, fidgeting with a card between his fingers.

"It was the color of Timothy's eyes and it is also my favorite color," Arizona replied blandly, her gaze still fixed out the window.

Daniel clenched his fist in anger and frustration. "Damnit Arizona," he cursed through his teeth, "this is a family matter and you need to support your family, and support me."

Incredulously, the blonde whirled her head towards her father. Of all the days to be concerned with his stupid image, he chose today. They were supposed to bury her brother, his son, and he's worried about what color she's wearing? "Excuse me?"

"You heard exactly what I said, Arizona," Daniel hissed. "Do I need to remind you why we're here in the first place?"

As soon as she heard those words come out of her father's mouth, Arizona snapped. "How dare you!" she all but screamed at her father. "Don't you dare try to blame Timothy's death on me!"

"It was your girlfriend who shot your brother. None of this craziness started to happen until you started to act selfishly. You betrayed your brother; you betrayed me!" Daniel shouted, seething in anger.

Arizona reached towards the driver of the car, signaling him to pull over. Returning her attention to her father, a deep scowl crossed her face. "You, Daniel Robbins, disgust me. I have my own guilt to deal with, I don't need you piling on misplaced blame. If you want to look for someone to blame, I suggest you look in the mirror. You're the one who filled Timothy with hate, who drove him to do unthinkable things. I did nothing but love my brother. If I'm at fault for anything, it's not fighting your poisonous influence on him." She finished her rant, and exited the car. Punctuating her statements with a slam of the car door, Arizona stood on the sidewalk as her father drove away.

Daniel slunk down in the seat of the sedan. He exhaled, thinking about how fucked everything had become. He was alone. His wife was gone, his son was gone, and his daughter betrayed him. Of course the common denominator was Carlos Torres. That man ruined everything Daniel ever held dear. He killed his wife, his daughter killed his son, and that same daughter corrupted his only remaining saving grace: Arizona. Daniel cracked his neck and instinctively flexed his muscles. It'd been a long time coming between he and Carlos, but it was time for it to happen.

He toyed with the card in his hand once more. It was supposed to be a condolence card for Carlos, but the more he thought about it, the more any sense of sympathy left his mind. Taking a pen out of the pocket of his suit, Daniel removed the card from the envelope. He signed a quick message before returning it to his pocket. "Change of plans," the Robbins leader said to the driver. "Go to St. Dominic's first."

"As you wish," the driver replied, turning left towards St. Dominic's.

"Thanks Wesley," Daniel said as he relaxed back into the leather of the back seat. Within a couple of minutes, they pulled up to the steps of the massive edifice of the Catholic church. He could see the figures moving inside the building. Two men dressed in black stood by the open doors. Daniel approached them, pulling out the envelope. The two men eyed him suspiciously as he walked towards them. "For your boss," he said, handing over the card.

The guard nodded, taking the card, before walking into the church to find Papa Torres. He could see the very distraught man looking over Mark's coffin. "Papa," he called as he neared the graying Torres boss, "The Colonel dropped this off for you."

Carlos eyed the envelope suspiciously as he took it from Alex Karev's hand. "Thanks Karev." He opened the note, focusing on the loopy scrawl that undoubtedly belonged to Daniel Robbins.

_Millennium Park. Sunset._

_-CDR_

Colonel Daniel Robbins, Carlos scoffed. What a joke. His message was loud and clear though: one more time for the road. He supposed it was time to settle their differences once and for all. Besides, there was no other way to do it than between the two of them. There was no love lost, and Carlos was itching to actually pound Daniel's face into the ground. His selfishness and stupidity started this mess, and it would be Carlos' strength and poise that ended it. There was no doubt in his mind what was going to happen at Millennium Park that night. His body craved a good fight, his blood thirst instantly awakened. It was Robbins who stole his family and his friends; it was Robbins who stole his adopted son; and it was Robbins who would pay for his sins tonight.

* * *

Callie laid on the couch, a pile of tissues collecting on the floor in front of her. Some bad soap opera was on TV, but all the Latina good see were shapes moving. Every blonde on screen looked like Arizona, and it was torture. It was torture she deserved, but it still pained her to admit to that. A part of her still clung to the idea that she could somehow fix what she broke, even though she knew that was anything but the case.

She looked towards the clock, a fresh wave of emotion filling her. They should be burying Mark right now. She should be there, crying and feeling with the rest of her family. But instead she was cooped up here on one of her father's properties, waiting until he could get her off the hook for what happened at the docks. In some ways, she wanted to go to prison. She wanted to face her punishment, because otherwise, how else would she serve her penance?

She deserved to rot in prison for what she'd done. Of course she could plead temporary insanity, and that would probably be the truth, but not having any punishment simply didn't seem right. Even if her father managed to get everything fixed, Callie was not morally corrupt enough to accept a way out.  
Callie, however, was still going stir crazy. She was rotting away inside this stupid house.

Her cell phone vibrated against the cushions of the couch. Picking it up, she saw Addison's name flash across the screen. "Hello?"

"Hey, Sweetie," Addison said, her voice carrying a hint of sadness. "How are you today?"

"That's a dumb question, Addison," the brunette snapped. Taking a deep breath, she collected herself, knowing she was out of line. "I'm sorry, that was rude. I'm…surviving," she answered her friend truthfully. "How are you?"

The redhead blubbered on the other side. "I could hardly stand being at the funeral, Callie. I just can't believe we waited so long. I only just managed to get him, and now he's gone. If only I could have made him see sooner, maybe I could have saved him."

"No Addison," Callie blurted, her own eyes filling with tears. "You can't think like that. You couldn't have saved him."

"I know," Addison said sadly. "Deep down, I know that. But right now it's not helping."

"I completely understand," Callie replied, her voice showing traces of her own guilt. "What's happening at home, Addie?"

"It's not good," the redhead confessed.

"What do you mean it's not good?"

Addison sighed. "I just mean that it's tense."

Callie knew her best friend was lying, she could hear it in her voice. "What aren't you telling me?"

"Nothing, Callie. Just drop it," The redhead replied harshly.

"I'm not going to drop it, Addie, so just tell me!"

"Fine," Addison conceded. "The Colonel dropped by Mark's funeral with a note. Alex was with your father when he opened it. Apparently there's going to be some sort of showdown tonight."

"Where?"

"Millennium Park," Addison answered soberly.

Callie took a deep breath. There was no way in hell she was going to sit here and allow them to kill each other. It wasn't fair to anyone. "I'm coming home Addison."

"Callie…." Addison warned.

"No Addison," the Latina said emphatically, "I'm coming home."

"Ok, but please be careful."

"Always," Callie replied, hanging up the phone.

She sat down at the table in the kitchen of her makeshift home, grabbing a pen and a piece of paper. She scrawled a letter to Arizona against the page, knowing full well it could be her last form of communication with the blonde if she went through with the plan she just devised. She knew that after everything, staying in Chicago would just be ridiculous. She wanted nothing to do with her father and his stupid feud. She needed air; she needed space. Of course, if she went back ,she could just as easily end up in prison.

Putting the letter into an envelope, Callie gathered her things. She put on her jacket before exiting the house. Climbing into her car, Callie took a deep breath in preparation for what she was about to do. She turned the key in the ignition and set out onto the interstate towards downtown Chicago. The drive to downtown was probably about an hour or so, which left Callie plenty of time to think. Usually she would welcome the alone time, but she'd been by herself for nearly four days. If she needed anything, it was for her brain to just shut off. She didn't need to think anymore. She didn't want to think anymore.

Her classic T-bird crept near Arizona's building. No doubt there were Robbins goons stationed around the place, probably unbeknownst to the blonde. Callie parked the car and dropped some quarters in the meter. She used the code Arizona gave her so she could get into the lobby, surprised it still worked. She supposed Daniel didn't want to draw more attention to the drama happening on the streets, so he didn't alarm the building attendants. She handed the letter to the receptionist. "Could you please deliver this to Arizona Robbins. It's urgent." When the receptionist nodded, Callie smiled sadly. "Thank you."

The receptionist watched the mysterious woman disappear out the doors as she picked up the phone. Dialing Arizona's number, she waited for the blonde to pick up.

"Hello?"

"Ms. Robbins?" the desk worker asked politely.

"This is she," Arizona replied.

"I have a letter at the desk for you. I was told it was urgent."

"Thank you I'll be right down," the blonde replied before hanging up the phone.

The receptionist relaxed in her chair as she waited for the patron to receive her mail. It was slow today, quiet even. Nothing was really going on it seemed and she was a bit bored. Not to mention, this letter seemed to taunt her. It was awfully tempting to just open it and read the thing. She'd always been nosy.

"Hi," a perky blonde said. "I'm Arizona. You have a letter."

"Indeed I do," the worker responded, handing over the envelope.

Arizona took it with trembling hands, immediately recognizing the scrawl as Callie's. After pondering whether or not she should read it for a few moments, Arizona opened the envelope. Her eyes scanned the page, tears welling within them. Finished, she put the letter in her pocket and bolted for the door.

* * *

The sun began to set on the Windy City, the light tainting the sky with a blood like tinge. Carlos walked up the steps towards the bean at Millennium Park. The red light from the setting sun bounced off his dark shades. He could see an approaching figure in the distance. He flipped his leather jacket open, allowing his hip holster to come into full view. Taking out a small knife from the strap on his ankle, Carlos threw it towards the approaching Robbins. He knew Daniel would dodge it easily, but he wanted to make sure the Colonel knew he meant business.

The Colonel flashed a wry smile in Carlos' general direction. "I see you've accepted my invitation."

"I see you have not lost your affinity for stating the obvious," Carlos shot back.

"Let's just get on with it," the Colonel decided before charging the awaiting Torres boss.

Much like their anointed sons a few nights prior, they wrestled each other with abandon. Carlos snuck in a couple of body shots on the taller man. Daniel groaned as Carlos' fists collided with his ribs, but retaliated with a left hook. Carlos shrank away, cursing as he wiped the blood from his nose. He reengaged the Colonel, sending him flying with a swift kick to the abdomen.

They carried on like this, their bodies warring with one another. Each punch, each kick released an ounce of frustration they'd withheld for years. With each drop of blood, satisfaction ran through their veins. All they wanted for years was to cause the other one pain, and now they had it. No more intermediaries, just them. This time there would be no direction from afar, no one would be able to come between them until it was settled, until someone fell.

Taking a breath, they backed away from one another. Carlos still danced on his toes, his breath coming a bit labored. Throwing off his jacket, he refocused his eyes on the Colonel, who stood tall and smirked wryly. The butt of his gun was visible now, and he knew Daniel was also carrying. Carlos just wasn't entirely positive where the gun was. "I think it's time we're done playing around," the Torres leader spat, brandishing his weapon.

"I couldn't agree more," Daniel agreed, pulling out his own gun.

They both froze as they heard footsteps on the pavement coming towards them. Carlos spun towards the oncoming figure, making sure to keep his gun trained on Daniel. Of course he knew instantly who it was. "Calliope!" he shouted, "what are you doing here?"

Chest heaving, Callie came to a halt between the two men and their guns. "Please," she begged, "this can't go on any longer. We can't keep doing this to ourselves, to the city. There needs to be peace. Just stop!"

The Latina, however, began to gasp as she felt an arm slither around her neck. Daniel pressed the barrel of his gun against her temple before whispering, "How dare you come down here and talk about peace. You're the reason my son is dead!" he hissed. "You're the person who corrupted my daughter beyond repair. Do not come to me and preach about peace."

Callie struggled, screaming as the Colonel pressed the barrel even harder against her head. This was it, she decided. She was going to die, right here by the hand of her love's father. Her heart pounded in her ears, her lungs screaming from fear. "Please," she pleaded, "don't kill me. Think of what it would do to Arizona," she tried, hoping it would jar the Colonel from his irrational state.

"I am thinking of Arizona," he replied sinisterly.

Seeing the scene play out in front of him, Carlos lost it. He knew Daniel; he knew this man like no one else could. He had already taken his wife and his two best friends, and now he was going to kill his daughter. It was something Daniel had threatened for years, but Carlos was obsessed with keeping her close. Now, however, he couldn't protect her, and he knew Daniel wouldn't hesitate to end her life. She was the only thing left for him. Lena was gone, Jim and Kathy were gone, and Mark was gone. There was no point in living a sorrow filled pathetic life. Raising his gun to his own head, Carlos said a prayer, knowing that it was no use. No God would hear his pleas now. He was beyond reprieve; they all were. "You win Daniel," he said, cocking his gun. "If you take Calliope, I will follow, and you will win."

"Calliope!" A voice shouted from the street, their footsteps running towards the scene.

"Arizona no!" The Latina tried to shout, so she could warn her.

The blonde's eyes widened as she realized what she just stepped into. Carlos removed his gun from his own temple, instead pointing it towards Arizona. "You've taken everything from me Daniel; I want you to feel the pain too."

Time ceased to move for Callie in that moment as the scenario played out before her. She struggled from the Colonel's grasp, running towards Arizona. The only thing on her mind was to shield her from everything. Her steps were long, her strides quick. The Colonel pointed his gun towards Callie's streaking form, having recovered from the jab she'd delivered to aid her escape. Looking over her shoulder towards her father and Daniel, Callie could see their fingers begin to squeeze the triggers. Leaping, she threw herself towards Arizona, a loud bang sounding in the background as they tumbled to the ground.

Arizona grunted as she rolled across the hard stone covering that portion of the park. She sat up, her eyes flickering between her father's and Carlos', finding looks of fear and abject horror. She followed their gazes towards the ground a few feet away from her. Callie lied there, gasping as a small pool of blood began to form underneath her.

A horrifying scream tore through Arizona's body as she fell next to Callie. "NO! NO! NO!" The blonde shouted, tears streaming down her face. She placed her hands over the wound, trying to stop the bleeding, but she already knew it was no use. There was so much blood. "Please Calliope," she begged, "stay with me."

Color drained from the Latina's face, her lips quivering blue as her body drained. "Denver," she managed to choke out through the pain.

"Yes baby, Denver. Think of the ski slopes and the fire at the cabin," Arizona replied, cradling her dying love in her arms. She clasped the Latina's hand in her own, kissing the pale knuckles. Her heart shattered into pieces, knowing everything was coming to an end. "And don't forget the angel on the Christmas tree."

"You're. My. Angel." Callie sputtered, her final minute of life quickly coming to a close. "I love you."

A choking sob ripped through Arizona's body, as she collapsed over Callie. Her cries were the only thing audible in the approaching night. Her father came to try and pry her away. "Don't touch me!" she shouted at him, the anger and disgust she felt flickering in her eyes. "Don't you dare touch me!"

The blonde could hear the sirens in the background. The paramedics approached Callie's lifeless body, gently telling Arizona she had to move. She didn't seem to register their instructions, however. Her hands clung helplessly to Callie's still form. Two men had to forcibly remove her from Callie, her screaming sobs piercing the night. They handed her to a policeman waiting along the road.

The thunder rolled as the red sky opened, sprinkling a light rain over them. The blonde stood, taking the umbrella offered to her by one of the policemen. She walked away from the scene towards the corner of the stoned area. She could see them lift Callie onto a stretcher. Addison ran towards the gurney, collapsing in fitful sobs as she saw it was Callie who was there. They pulled the zipper closed over the Latina's frozen face, the shock and pain of what happened, causing Arizona's legs to nearly give out.

"Arizona! Arizona!" Teddy called as she sprinted across the park, catching her friend just as she was about to collapse.

The blonde looked at Teddy, her dead eyes blinking. "Calliope," she muttered, the word leaving her mouth in a strangled whisper. "She's gone."

"Oh Arizona," Teddy said, her voice full of comfort. "There's nothing you can do." She looked to her friend, who's eyes were elsewhere. She waved a hand in her face. "Arizona, come back to me. Where'd you go?"

"Denver," the blonde answered, pulling out Callie's letter, and allowing her eyes to linger over the words. "I was thinking about how one day I'm going to go to Denver." The blonde sighed, holding the letter against her chest as if she could absorb the emotions on the page. A lone tear trailed down her cheek as she hoped to one day feel her Calliope again.

_Dear Arizona_

_I'm writing this letter without knowing exactly what to say. I could write about my deep regrets or my undying love for you. I could write about the disgusting power of hate or the corrupting force of greed. I think instead, however, I will tell you a story that transcends all the bloodshed and bullshit: my story, our story._

_I was drowning, Arizona. I was drowning and you saved me. I grew up surrounded by crime and greed. Because I experienced the benefits, however, I never stood against my family for what was right. You've been resisting in some way for most of your adult life, something I admire most about you._

_I think about the night we met often. I remember you making me spill my wine all over my chest and my dress. I was so pissed until I looked up and stared into your eyes for the first time. I was mesmerized. You captivated me from the very beginning; I've been yours since that moment. Then, I found out you were a Robbins, and soon realized I didn't care. Maybe it was the way you looked at me in the bathroom, but I found myself rationalizing my reasons for wanting to go on this adventure with you._

_The last couple of days, I've often wondered if we should have gone to Denver. I so wish we could have, especially now, when it seems we have nothing left, not even each other. I wish I had been more selfish and run away with you. God, I wish so many things. If I could have anything, though, it would be to erase that catastrophic night. It did nothing, but prolong our fathers' argument and cause me to make the worst decision of my life._

_It seems that tonight is when everything will be solved. Addison told me that this afternoon. I can't take any more violence. The very thought of another person dying makes me ill. I'm not going to let this happen. I know I promised before, but I know how I felt in that moment and I know how I feel now. Never in my life would I wish such suffocating pain upon anyone._

_I guess this is where I start to tell you everything I feel for you. I know, though, that you know the depth of my love. Horrible things have transpired and I know I have betrayed the very foundation of our relationship. Perhaps we were doomed from the start, just kidding ourselves thinking we could make this work. But what I experienced amongst all the hate was a deep and everlasting love that will never be duplicated. So I think I will go to Denver. After I've stopped our fathers, I'm going to take everything and just get out of this city. I know it's too late for us, but maybe I'll see you there someday._

_All my love,_

_Calliope_

**The End**

* * *

A/N2: Ok…so I finished this exactly the way I intended to. The reason I say that is because it wasn't always clear that was going to be the case. When I conceived this fic, I did it with the intention of writing a tragic love story. I usually write fluff and sex, but I wanted to push the boundaries of my writing. I wanted to create something I was proud of. I'm sure many of you are so furious with me or sad or both, but before you completely write me off, I hope you will find it possible to at least respect what I tried to accomplish (and perhaps may have actually accomplished). I wrote this to prove something to myself. If you liked it…AWESOME! If you hate me right now…that's a testament to your commitment to this story and the characters of Callie and Arizona.

As always, I am open to discussing at length everything about this fic. I laid clues everywhere (hint: colors were very important). I really thought about this and planned hoping that at the very least I could command some type of respect when it was finished. I reply to everything (that's signed), and no matter your feelings, comments, what have you…I will respond. I can't promise I won't be defensive, but if you have questions, comments, I will answer everything. Until next time….

All my best,

~KB~


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